Fear is a Killer
by Mystichawk
Summary: Pitch Black, bitter towards the Guardians after his humiliating defeat, is still around. Thanks to Sandy, he's not getting many nightmares and thus, not growing any stronger. One night, Pitch finds a really powerful nightmare and uses it to gain strength, but then he makes a terrible mistake and has to deal with the consequences. Possibly ToothxPitch.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello mortals! Yes, the great Mystichawk had written another fanfiction story centered around Pitch Black, the Nightmare King. **

**Since my other story kind of portrays him as a good guy, I thought it might be cool to try and show the painfully bad side of him. Make no mistake, there may indeed be humor in this one, but it's more than likely gonna have a bunch of drama and hurt/comfort stuff. If you want massive amounts of fluff and humor, go visit my other stories: Season's Greetings Jack Frost and The Boogeyman Tries To Understand Fanfiction.**

**Anyway, this story takes place several years after Pitch's defeat at the hands of the guardians. **

**Enjoy.**

* * *

_Burgess Morgue. . ._

"Hi Andy. How's it going?" Muriel asked, stepping through the double-hinged doors of the Burgess Morgue.

"Fine." Said Andy. "Lola is filing the divorce papers and I'm happy to let her do it!" Andy shrugged off his coat, hung it on the peg above his name and began to unbutton his jacket. "What have we got today?" He asked.

Muriel tied her medical apron around her neck and glanced at the clipboard tied to her desk. "Oh. Bad news. We've got a young one this time."

Andy stopped washing his hands at the small sink and looked up. His mouth was a grim slash. He hated it when young ones came in. Young people shouldn't have to die before they're even ready. No one, he reflected, should have to die before they're ready. But that was the problem with death: It seemed to crop everywhere, with the most unlikely people. And especially children.

"How old?" He asked, trying to hide his sadness behind a mask of indifference. It didn't help to cry over something if it wouldn't come back.

Muriel consulted the clipboard and gave a small sigh. "Eight years old. Poor thing. Little girl by the name of Illana Morgan."

Andy dried his hands off with a white towel and slipped on his regulation white coat and rubber gloves. "Cause of death?" He asked, trying to sound monotone.

"Heart failure." Muriel said. "Little girl just got out of the hospital from having heart surgery and apparently it didn't take." She sighed and zipped the body-bag open carefully. "Nothing unusual on the report. How's you- Whoa!" She said, cutting herself off in mid sentence.

Muriel Lailynsgate and Andy Wilhelm had been working together in the Morgue for fifteen-odd years, Andy was actually going to replace Muriel when she retired, so they knew each other quite well. Andy knew Muriel's favorite baseball team, favorite song, and he'd been to her house dozens of times. He also knew that Muriel had never, not once in all the time he'd been working with her, said _whoa_ after unzipping a body-bag. Something must've been seriously wrong with the body.

Andy came over to her side, just fishing tying on his protective mask. He was wondering what had made Muriel break her shell of indifference that was necessary on a job like this to let out her _whoa_.

"Whats wro- Whoa!" He said as he came around and got his first look at the body, his _Whoa_ exactly mimicking Muriel.

Muriel looked up at him. "I've never seen anything like this!" She said, amazed. She reached down to touch the face of the poor little girl but Andy grabbed her hand.

"No, Muriel. I know it's amazing, but we have to do our jobs so the family can put their little girl to rest." He said, trying not to keep looking at the strange phenomenon.

Muriel blinked, then she remembered where she was and pulled herself together. "Of course. I'm sorry." She said and went back to her clipboard. "Report didn't mention this." She muttered as she flipped through the pages. "How do you suppose she got it like that?" She asked Andy, who was in the back room fetching the instruments necessary for the undertaking.

"I have no idea." Andy called from the back room. "Dye, maybe?"

Muriel scoffed. "No. Dye doesn't do that. You saw the expression on her face."

Andy came back, wheeling a cart full of shiny metal utensils. "I did, but what does that have to do with it?"

Muriel glanced back at the body-bag and grimaced. "It means she didn't die naturally. Heart attack won't do that to a person. Even a child!"

Andy looked at her cynically. "Well, we're the coroners. We'll decide how she died, won't we?"

Muriel sighed again and began to unzip the rest of the body-bag. "It's so sad when you see a young one." She said quietly to herself.

Andy came over and patted her shoulder. "It's alright, Muriel. She's gone to a better place." That was the only thing he could think of to say.

Muriel sniffed and said, "Yes, and now it's our job to make sure what remains of her here stays here." She blinked back a few rebellious tears and began the process of removing the poor child's organs and fluids.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

Several hours later, they'd found nothing to suggest any other type of death than a heart attack. Muriel was quite agitated.

"Well, I guess that's that. Now she's almost ready for burial." She said, sighing once again. Normally she was quite a determined woman. Able to push through her job easily without stopping to cry or mourn, but it was deaths like these that showed Andy what she really was. A sad human being, just like him.

"Yes. She's almost ready." Andy said. He looked at the little girl's face once more and said, "Muriel, do you think they'd mind if we. . ." He trailed off, unsure if the idea would seem inappropriate to her.

Muriel looked up and asked, "What?"

Andy glanced back at the body. He couldn't say it. "If I- you know," He said, moving his hands over her face.

Muriel saw what he meant and nodded. "I think they'd be grateful, Andy. Go ahead."

Andy smiled, reassured that he wasn't doing something wrong and reached with both hands gently into the bag. He moved them careful over the child's eyelids and closed them gently. Then he closed her mouth and tilted her lips until she was laying there peacefully, as if she were sleeping.

"Thank you." Andy said when he was done. "I just couldn't stand it. Those eyes. . ." He shivered.

Muriel nodded. "I know what you mean." She reached down and pulled the zipper of the body-bad closed gently. The last thing to go were the child's closed eyes and her simple smile. "Poor little girl." Muriel murmured one last time, and then zipped the bag closed.

Andy stored the body-bag and they both took off their gloves and masks and shrugged on their coats. "It's chilly out." Muriel commented.

Andy nodded. "Yes, it is. Looks like Jack Frost has come into town again."

Muriel stopped and frowned. "Who?"

Andy smiled. "Just something my nephew keeps talking about. I've brought him over before, haven't I? Jamie Bennett." Andy wrapped a black scarf around his neck and pulled on his favorite black baseball cap. "Him and his little sister Sophie were staying at my house last week."

Muriel buttoned up her thick woolen blouse and nodded. "Oh yes, I remember. Little boy, eleven years old?"

Andy nodded. "He'll be twelve next month! He says he wants to have the party at my house, and that the Easter Bunny, Santa Clause, the Tooth fairy, Sandman and Jack Frost are all going to be there. He says they've never missed a birthday party of his yet. What an imagination."

Mureil raised an eyebrow. "The Tooth Fairy? Huh. He certainly does."

Andy and Muriel then began to lock up. The process took several minutes and all the while Andy talked about his nephew's strange story.

"He told me that two Easters ago, the Bogeyman tried to take control of the world using Nightmares, which, apparently are giant black horses made out of sand, but he was stopped by a small group of fairytale characters called Guardians."

Muriel raised an eyebrow. "Guardians?"

Andy shrugged. "That's what he says. He also says that the Boogeyman is named Pitch Black and that Jack Frost gave him a wild sled ride on a snow day."

Mureil smiled as she inserted the last key. The lock clicked and Mureil slipped the key back into her pocket. "Well, your nephew certainly has quite the imagination." She said as they pushed through the double doors and out onto the cold street.

"Yes he does." Andy agreed. "I've told him that he should write a book about it. But he said no. He thinks that writing is for girls." He laughed. "Maybe Sophie could write it, when she gets older."

Mureil sighed. Andy was so lucky to have children still around him. Except for dead ones. All her children and grandchildren had moved far away to Hawaii or Florida, or some such place. She had no one in the small town of Burgess. No one except her co-worker. That was sad.

After a few more steps Andy started up again about his nephew's strange story. "He says that the Tooth Fairy is half hummingbird with violet eyes and rainbow feathers, and that the Boogeyman is tall and wears a black robe. Honestly, how does he come up with these things?"

Muriel shrugged. It all sounded a bit too fantastical to her.

"Oh, and get this," Andy said, trying not to laugh. "He says the Easter Bunny is six feet tall with blueish-grey fur, an Australian accent and a pair of wooden boomerangs! Can you imagine that?!" He laughed. "That's be like Thumper plus Hugh Jackman plus Crocodile Dundee!"

Muriel had to crack a smile at that. "Yes, that would be a sight."

"Oh, and that isn't even the best part!" He said, jumping out of the way to avoid bonking his head on a lamp post. "He told me that the Easter Bunny's name is E. Aster Bunnymund, Santa Clause is called North, and he has a Russian accent and used twin swords, and the Sandman's name is- get this: Sanderson _ManSnoozie_. Isn't that original?"

Muriel laughed. "Well, he's at least using decent names for them. Mund means the world, and his first name is Easter. He's a smart child." She said.

"Yes, he is." Andy agreed again. "I really hope he remembers this stuff when he'd older, though. Adults seem to kind of. . . forget magic and things like that."

"You haven't," Muriel pointed out.

"Oh no, I don't really believe in that stuff," He said. "I just think it's good that the children do. They should be innocent and blissfully aware of things like that for as long as possible, you know."

Mureil nodded. They were coming up on her street now. "Have a good night, Andrew." She said and turned to head up her street.

"Muriel, wait a moment!" Andy called.

Muriel stopped a few feet away from her street sign and asked, "What?"

Andy jogged over to her and said quietly, "You said something back in the morgue. Something about that little girl's death not being natural. What did you mean?"

It had been bothering both of them since they'd zipped the child's body up and stored it. Andy was wondering if it might have something to do with the unusual phenomenon.

Muriel was worried that, is she told him, he would have nightmares. "Well, I was thinking that- No, it's silly."

She said and she was about to turn away when Andy put his hand on her shoulder and said gently, "Muriel, it's OK. You can tell me."

Muriel looked back at him sadly. "Well, if you really want to know. . ."

Andy nodded.

"The fact that she dies of a heart attack, the strange hair, the expression on her face. . . It all adds up to one thing in my book." Muriel looked Andy straight in the eyes and said simply, "She was scared to death."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi guys! I know, sad chapter in the beginning, right? But it was necessary to set the stage. I hope you guys all had good weekends. I did too. Thank you for all the reviews I received. I wouldn't be the writer I am today without them!**

**Just to let you guys know, this is going to be a very dramatic story. It's only going to get so bad, but I'm rating it T, just in case.**

**Anyway, have a nice night!**

* * *

The lights are out. The children are sleeping. Pitch Black was creeping. Same old same old.

It had taken him just shy of a year to regain his powers and a little bit longer for him to be able to get out of his cave. The first night he'd stumbled out of his lair and felt the cool breeze on his face, rather than the dank, stale air of his underground home, Pitch Black spun around and let out a whoop of joy.

"I'm free!" He shouted, calling his nightmare Onyx to him. The shadow-horse came barreling out of the cave and Pitch leaped onto his back, just to feel the thrill of flying again.

"This time, the world will be mine!" He shouted as Onyx raced through the air. "Do you hear me, Guardians? The Boogeyman is BACK!"

Then his horse slammed into a jumbo billboard and Pitch found himself being forcibly tossed through the air where he landed in an undignified heap.

"As soon as I mend these blasted broken bones."

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

After that, the Boogeyman decided to keep a low profile. He spread a few nightmares around Burgess, and the rest of the world, but he never ventured out of his cave until the daylight had completely faded. He also refused to ride Onyx anymore until the Nightmare had had an eye exam.

The lack of nightmares in Burgess, helped, no doubt, by Sanderson, was something that irritated Pitch greatly, so every evening, instead of just sending the Nightmares to go take care of them, Pitch visited each bedroom and checked each nightmare individually, to make sure that it wasn't in any way happy or nice.

Pitch was currently in the bedroom of a ten-year-old named Elizabeth who was scared of snakes.

He watched the little girl's nightmare grow stronger and take hold of her. The glittering black orb above her head told him that she was in the middle of a snake pit at a zoo, and the scaly, loathsome creatures were surrounding her. There were several species even Pitch didn't recognize, and there were some he did. The girl's nightmare seemed to be herpatologically correct, at any rate. The snakes that surrounded her were all poisonous and they all had a lightning-quick strike. She just stood there surrounded by the slithering beasts.

Pitch Black loved snakes. They were so easy to slip into someone's sock or shoe. And they made great birthday presents! Pitch sucked in the child's fear like a hot drink and smiled. Delicious. Then he looked back at the child's nightmare and decided to give her a _real_ fright.

Elizabeth didn't hate snakes. She actually loved them. so why was she having a nightmare about them? Oh yes, because she was afraid of them. Snakes, drowning, being kidnapped, thieves, monsters, horses, spiders, ghosts, and a thousand other things besides. But mostly snakes.

Her fear of snakes had originated when she'd gone to the bathroom in her cousin Bert's house in Florida. It had been about three years since that had happened. Before that, she'd loved snakes and hadn't feared them. Now, if someone even made a hissing sound she would shriek until she was hoarse. The snake she'd found was a huge one, and it had been crawling up the toilet pipe. She'd gone to sit down and received a very painful and quick bite in the rear end. She'd been six at the time.

Something like that could really traumatize a little girl and she hadn't seen a snake without shrieking since.

Elizabeth tried to run, but they'd corralled her into a corner. "Go away!" She screamed. The snakes hissed and she instinctively whimper, crouching as far down as she could.

The snakes hissed again and this time it sounded like laughter.

"G- go aw- way!" She whimpered weakly. She couldn't stand it. Her fear was growing by the second.

Suddenly the snakes all backed away and Elizabeth felt something cold touch her arm. She turned around and screamed.

There was a giant Asp right behind her. It's eyes were huge and it's fangs glistened with black poison. it's body was thicker than five of her and it's head looked like a giant spade, swaying back and forth, back and forth. It was hypnotic.

On some lever, she knew what it was going. Trying to hypnotize her so it could eat her alive. She tried to fight it.

"it's just a dream. It's just a dream." She muttered weakly.

The snake opened it's mouth and laughed in a human voice. A silky, horrible voice that made shivers run up and down her spine.  
"Oh, isssssss it?" The snake asked.

She tried to answer, but the asp had her in it's coils. "Nighty-night, Elissssssabeth." The snake hissed. She screamed again and the giant snake lunged. Then the nightmare ended and she woke up screaming.

Pitch pulled out of the little girl's nightmare right before the snake struck and he had an evil glint in his eye. "That was wonderful!" He murmured as he shifted out of corporeal form and into his shadow-stage, so that he could be unseen and also watch the aftermath of his little trick.

The parents came in a few minutes later and she was still screaming.

They tried to console their screaming daughter and Pitch left her room, laughing quietly. Oh, how good it felt to feed on her fear. Absolutely delectable. Pitch was about to head for home, (caves,) when he felt another very dark dream happening on the other side of the street. It was very powerful.

Pitch lifted his head and sniffed. The scent of fear filled his nostrils and he sighed. This was what he lived for. Causing fear and terror, everywhere he went. He followed the scent like a bloodhound on the trail and eventually came to a small house on the end of the street with a small flickering light on in the upper left window. Pitch let out a contented sigh and floated up to that window, peeking in to see who was having the pretty little nightmare.

It was a little girl. He could tell that right away by the long strands of black hair that lay on her pillow. Her back was to him, but he could see her skin was white and she was trembling.

"Ooh, one of _those_ nightmares. Wonderful!" Pitch said as he slipped through the window in shadow-shape, slithering across the room like the serpents he'd slipped into little Elizabeth's dream. He came to rest, standing over the little girl on the opposite side of the bed. He was right. Her face was very white and her eyes were squeezed shut against the Nightmare.

"Oh, how beautiful," Pitch whispered. And he wasn't talking about the girl. The nightmare took shape inside the black orb he creates simply by passing his hand over her head. Another animal nightmare. Spiders this time. The girl was in a tiny room that was crawling with the creatures, and they were getting closer and closer to her.

"Spiders. Interesting. Let's see how you like _these_ little Arachnids," Pitch said, dancing his thin fingers over her nightmare orb. When his fingers touched the nightmare, spiders began to pour into it like a sea. Big ones, little ones. Poisons ones and daddy-long-legs. Tropical spiders and spiders as big as hubcaps! Spiders with yellow coloring, spiders with black. Black widows, hairy spiders, they were all there. They were surrounding the little girl. Spinning, biting, clicking their fangs. Her fear was delectable.

Inside her nightmare, Illana Morgan was screaming her head off.

Why? Why had her wonderful dream about running in a marathon turned to spiders? _Why_ was it always spiders?

She was in a big dark room. Everything was black, and she couldn't see. She was sitting down, up against a corner, and her skin was covered in goosebumps.

"Let it end," She murmured. "Let it end, please. I'm scared." She closed her eyes, not that it made any difference, and clasped her hands together. She prayed, just like her momma had prayed when she'd gone into the hospital. She prayed that this Nightmare would end. Then, she felt a skitter across her leg. She screamed and tried to stand up, but her legs wouldn't support her.

"Go away!" She screamed, trying to move away from the corner by crawling, but her hands met something hairy and big and she snatched them back with a squeak. "Go away!" She yelled, kicking out. Her foot met something hairy and she heard an angry hissing right next to her. Then, in a flash, they were on her. Crawling all over her skin, hissing and spinning webs all over her. She thrashed and tried to scream, but the spiders crawled inside her mouth and spun webs that stuck her mouth together. she could feel a few crawling down her throat and she tried to hack out a cough, but she couldn't breath. They were sucking the very air out of her room.

The webs in her throat didn't help either. She tried to scream and open her eyes, but spiders were crawling up onto her face and spinning webs over them. She thrashed, but her whole body was covered in the creatures and they were spinning her around like she was in a tornado, only instead of winds, they were spinning webs that would become her tomb.

"Wonderful." Pitch said again, laughing as the tide of eight-legged creatures engulfed her. Her fear was growing. She tossed and turned in her sleep, whimpering and crying. Pitch could see welts and bruised begin to form on the child in the dream's skin. It was then that be decided to stop. Pure terror was all well and good, but he didn't want to-

Suddenly the little girl's eyes flew open and she stared at Pitch, who was frozen over her bed. His mind raced. What was he going to do? Did she see him? Maybe he could slip out of there and not even be noticed. He'd done it many times before. Then he saw the look on her face. It was one of ultimate fear. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open in a silent scream.

Pitch saw something behind those eyes that were frozen in fear. He saw a glimmer of pain and it made him feel guilty. He never wanted to truly hurt the children. He just wanted to scare them a bit. She held his gaze for one second, then two, then she whispered something before her eyes closed and her hair became completely white.

Pitch jumped back, shielding his eyes. The white was so brilliant that it reminded him of Jack Frost. But, what had happened? Why had she-

And then he realized it. He stared down at the girl, his mouth open in horror. This girl was dead. He'd killed her. He'd _murdered_ a _child_!

"Oh no." He said, his eclipse eyes wide and fearful. No, this wasn't right! He didn't _kill_ children! He only _scared_ them. Since when was _fear_ enough to kill?

_It was enough for Sanderson._ His mind told him. "Shut up!" He said angrily. "Shut up! I need to think." He paced around the room. For some reason, his eyes kept being drawn to her shock-white hair. It had been so black a moment ago.

"How could I have done this!" He said, forgetting his anger. He knelt beside her bed and lifted the little girl's eyelid. Nothing. Not a glimmer. Not a flicker of life. She was dead. "How could I have _done _this?!" Pitch said again. This time his voice was full of anguish. He was breaking down. He'd never gone this far! Never! He stared down at the little girl and her fear, so delicious to him only minutes before, now repulsed him.

A few minutes later, he heard footsteps out on the landing.

"Anna? Are you alright?"

Pitch recoiled at the noise. His eclipse eyes were wide with- What? Fear? No, he didn't feel fear. Anger? At himself, maybe. Worry? Possibly. He staggered back into the shadows and stood there, staring at the white-haired child. How could he have done such a thing?

Pitch heard more footsteps, right outside the door and a voice. "Anna? Can I come in sweetie?"

Pitch's face completely drained of all color. Her mother. that's who it was. It couldn't possibly be anyone else. She would come in and see her dead child, and then. . .

Pitch didn't know what. He didn't know what to do. His grey hands were sweating, which he found to be very annoying and he wiped them on his robe, trying to think._ What am I going to do?_ He thought anxiously. He knew that the penalty for killing a child for the Guardians was banishment, but he wasn't a Guardian! Would his immortality be removed? Would they hunt him down and catch him like a fox? Would they kill him?

He was so agitated and focused on his thoughts about the repercussions of his actions that he didn't hear or even see the shadowy figure looming behind him.

"Pitch?" A deep baritone voice said behind him.

Pitch whirled around to see a tall figure in a black cloak, holding a scythe over his shoulder and a pair of black raven wings unfurling from his back standing right behind him.

"Thanatos." He gulped. He should've known Thanatos would show up. It was his duty, after all.

The figure stepped closer. "Yes. It's been a long time." His voice was like the beat of a drum. Slow, rhythmical, and at the same time completely chilling.

Pitch nodded, his eyes flitting from the bed to the hood over Thanatos's face. If there was one spirit, besides Sanderson, that he feared, it was the Grim Reaper.

Thanatos caught his gaze and he looked over at the bed. "Well, You've done it again, Pitch." He said, letting out a deep moan that Pitch assumed was a sigh.

Pitch closed his eyes, trying to quell the fear that was building up inside him. Not that he didn't have a good reason to be afraid. Not only did Thanatos, the literal god of death, have power over the lives and deaths of every single being on the planet, but he also had the power to take away immortality, from _anyone_. He was the only one, apart from the Man in the Moon, who had this power. Adding on that he was considerably older than MiM, about as old as time itself, and you can see why Pitch was completely terrified of him.

"This isn't my fault," He began, trying to regain his composure.

"Of course it isn't." Thanatos said, moving past Pitch and over to the child, (Anna?)'s bed. "Just like it wasn't your fault in Montreal, or Italy, or Phoenix."

Pitch cringed. The Reaper was naming places he'd been in the past. Places he'd been, and the homes of people he'd killed.

"Yes, but-"

"Do you realize how _serious_ this is?" Thanatos asked, turning to look at him. Or at least, his hood turned in Pitch's direction. His voice was still calm, but Pitch could hear the anger in it. "This isn't some drunk, passed out on the streets. This isn't an old man, dying of cancer in a hospital. This is a child." His voice was slow and steady, with an undefinable accent lacing the edges of his words. Something old, and powerful.

"You think I don't _KNOW_ that?!" Pitch said angrily, turning away from Thanatos. His eyes were clenched shut and his hands were balled into fists. His mind was racing. This was different from the other times. Then, it had been adults. Now. . .

"You know I can't cover for you this time, Pitch." The Reaper said. His voice, though low and threatening, now retained an undertone of pity.

"I know," Pitch whispered. His hands slackened and he opened his eyes slowly. He could feel his anger ebbing away, to be replaced by shame. "I didn't think. I couldn't-"

"A heart failure." Thanatos interrupted.

Pitch turned around, frowning. "What?"

"That is how she died. A heart failure. She went into the hospital a month ago to get a pace-maker installed. I was there. She nearly died, but the doctors were able to revive her. The fear you gave her put her pace-maker in warp drive and her heart couldn't take it."

Pitch closed his eyes and moaned. A _pace-maker. _That explained it. He'd given her too much fear, and it had overloaded her heart. She'd been scared to death.

"Are you going to-" Pitch began, but the dark spirit interrupted him.

"_That_... is none of your concern," Thanatos said sharply, causing Pitch to flinch. "I will do my job. You, however, cannot stay here, in this city. You must go."

Pitch stared at Thanatos. "Go? Why?"

Thanatos, who had been bent over the child's bed, examining her carefully, snapped up and stared at him coldly from under his thick black hood. Pitch could see the tiny pinpricks of red fire that were The Grim Reaper's eyes, glowing bright with anger, deep within the hood.

_"Why?" _Thanatos said, and the very air in the room seemed to stop.

Pitch gulped and took a step back. "Thanatos, I-"

_"Why?" _Thanatos asked again. "Because you've just _killed_ a child, Pitch Black. There will be spirits out for your head now, and not _just_ the Guardians."

Pitch froze. "W- what do you mean?" He said, trying to stop quivering in terror.

Thanatos advanced on him. "In all history, there has _never_ been the taking of a child's life by a spirit. _Ever_. I should know. I've been around since before spirits _existed_."

Pitch tried to back up, but he hit the wall and when he tried to phase through it, Thanatos chuckled. "Oh, you're not going anywhere." He said, taking another step towards him.

Pitch's face drained of what color it had left and he stared, completely terrified, at the Grim Reaper.

"Not until I've had my say," Thanatos continued. "And Pitch, don't look so scared. I'm not one of the ones out for your head."

Pitch let out a sigh of relief, which petered out when Thanatos continued. "_Yet. _You've done a very stupid and very dangerous thing here, Pitch. All of us felt it. I felt it, and I'm sure the Guardians felt it too."

Pitch would've groaned, but he was too scared. Something about the spirit before him seemed to radiate fear, more so that even _he_ did!

"As you very well know, the punishment for a Guardian's killing a child is banishment. For you, I think they will make it a little worse." Thanatos paused, then said the very thing Pitch had been dreading. "They'll take your powers, Pitch. _And_ your immortality. You'll be branded a traitor, and I literally mean _branded_."

Pitch could almost feel the hot iron stabbing into the back of his hand now, and the one thought that kept racing through his mind was, _How could I have done that? _

Thanatos backed up a foot and said slowly, "I have no doubt you deserve your fate, Pitch. You deserve it a thousand times over for what you have done."

Pitch flinched. Now he was cowering against the wall, looking everywhere but at the Grim Reaper's hood. He knew that he deserved it. He deserved the pain he'd inflicted on others. What goes around comes around.

"I just want to say this: If you are smart, you'll go into hiding. And not just in those cold caves you call a lair. I mean, _hiding. _The only way for you to escape the wrath of every single spirit on the face of this earth it to _dissapear_ off the face of this earth."

Thanatos's words seemed to snap Pitch out of his cowering trance. He blinked. The fear was still there but he could think coherently now, and he had no idea what Thanatos was saying. Disappear? _How_? He couldn't just jump on a rocket ship headed for Jupiter.

"I can't." He finally said in a husky voice. "I can't leave. They'll find me, wherever I go."

Thanatos laughed. It was like the rumbling of clouds and the sound before an avalanche. "Then you are dead, Pitch Black. Just... like... her."

Pitch turned then and, with one last look at the white-haired girl, fled.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hola Humani! Yes, I know I haven't posted in a long time. Well, I'm busy! Anyway, did you like Death's surprise appearance? Kinda creepy. And Pitch, being afraid of something! That's certainly a new concept. **

**I guessed that, when I first wrote this, people weren't going to be a big fan of Pitch killing someone. but I had to do it! It get's better, I promise! Ready to find out what happens next? Good. Buckle up.**

* * *

Several thousand miles away, Toothiana was giving orders to more of her fairies.

"D.C, sector nine, grit eight. Three Molars and a bicuspid at 413 Arlington avenue. Lausanne, Switzerland. An incisor and a premolar. Same house."

Tooth buzzed over to a tiny fairy who held out a tooth for her to inspect. "My my, Eleanor Rosalie has had a bit of trouble with brushing, hasn't she?" Tooth said reprovingly, squinting at the tooth, which had a large cavity in the center. "Just look at that one! It's barely holding together. Go take it to be cleaned, will you?" She said to the tiny fairy who'd given it to her. The fairy squeaked in agreement and gave her mother a smart salute.

Tooth flew up and towards the place where her little fairies got their coins and saw Baby Tooth carrying a little boy's first tooth.

"Oh, that is incredible! Look at it, the little darling." She cooed as Baby Tooth handed it to her. Baby Tooth squeaked in agreement and they both stared dotingly at that one tiny pearly-white. It was so small and pale, like a thick blanket of freshly fallen snow.

"Well, you'd better get that to storage, Baby Tooth." Tooth said after snapping out of her tooth-revere. Baby Tooth gave her mother a look and Tooth laughed, making a shooing motion with her hand. "Yes yes, we all love the first teeth. Now hurry! The day's almost over! Remember, I'm going out in the field tonight and you're staying here to make sure Pitch doesn't go after the teeth again!"

Baby Tooth nodded and struck a fighting pose, holding her little fists out like a boxer.

Tooth laughed. "Yes yes, my little warriors. But seriously, I'm leaving at sunset! and I won't be back until sunset tomorrow. Have to get the rest of the world, even if they aren't in my hemisphere."

Baby Tooth nodded, saluting one more time and flew away with the little tooth. Almost immediately Tooth got an order and said to no one in particular, "Phoenix, Arizona. Golden Avenue- oh!" She said, suddenly feeling a painful twinge inside her stomach.

Three fairies who were hovering close by heard their mother's exclamation and buzzed over to see what was wrong. Their mother just hovered there, holding her hand against her stomach. "I don't know. It feels like something is- AGH!" She cried, dropping three or four feet in the air, clutching her stomach as she doubled up in pain.

The little fairies began to squeak in fright. Their squeaking became louder and the other fairies stopped what they were doing. If one of their sisters was squeaking like that, it could only mean one thing: Mom was in danger. Like a swarm of bees the tiny hummingbird girls flew towards their mother who was just barely managing t stay afloat. They flew beneath her and gently bore her weight down to a platform where she collapsed, heaving slow ragged breathes. Her hands were clutching her stomach and she was groaning. It sounded like she was in a lot of pain.

The tiny girls started squeaking in confusion and buzzing around their mother until Baby Tooth came through, parting the cloud of fairies easily and shooing them all back with a few squeaks. She told the others to go back to what they were doing and thanked them for helping. Reluctantly, the other tiny fairies flew away and went back to their jobs, cleaning, finding and storing the teeth of children all over the world.

Tooth, though her face was twisted in an unnamed pain, looked up and saw, with tears of pain mixed with an expression of pride on her face, that Baby Tooth taking charge like a real Tooth Fairy should.

"Good girl." Tooth whispered, then the pain in her stomach became too much and she slumped into unconsciousness.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

A few thousand miles away, in Cloud Castle, Sandman was sitting at the desk in his room, writing about his day in his journal. He was the only Guardian who wasn't too worried about Pitch attacking again. For one, he'd been practicing against the black sand Pitch used.

He'd managed to obtain a small amount and, with a little tinkering in his workroom, he'd managed to make more and even to create a special kind of dream sand that combined the black color of Pitch's nightmare sand and the properties of his own dream-sand. It was, essentially, a teaser sand that looked like Pitch's, but it couldn't hurt him and he used this sand to practice dodging arrows and Nightmares, which had been Pitch's primary choice of weapon when they'd first fought in the Nightmare War.

He gave the sand weapons and creatures basic motor functions and reason. That was all. The Nightmare would attack only when Sandy blew on a dream-sand whistle, and the arrows would only fire when he made a certain move. That way he could practice the same moves over and over again. There were a few times, however, when the arrows managed to actually catch him, but the sand had just melted back into his outfit and turned back into golden dream-sand.

For another, Sandy knew that he wouldn't dare attack Cloud Castle, where he was strongest. Even Pitch wouldn't be that stupid. No, he'd most likely wait and attack while he was out on his rounds.

Sandy sighed and wrote another paragraph in his journal, which he'd kept since he'd been re-born.

_Sometimes I think that we shouldn't have just left Pitch alone. We left Jack alone for far too long, and look how **that** turned out. _Sandy sighed._ And because we- no, **I** left him alone for over a thousand years, I take partial responsibility for the things Pitch has done. I can't help it! I guess I now know how Bunny and the other Guardians feel. About Jack, I mean. They had this sense of failure all around them for the first few months Jack spent as a Guardian._

Sandy frowned at that last sentence and then erased a word.

_They had this sense of **guilt** all around them for the first few months Jack spent as a Guardian_.

He nodded. Better.

_ They felt guilty that they couldn't help him see Wonder, or Hope. Toothiana feels particularly guilty because she never helped Jack find his memories. She doesn't say this, of course, but I can tell. _

Sandy stopped writing and stroked his chin. He'd developed that as a habit from watching a few too many Sherlock Holmes movies.

_Anyway, back to Pitch. _He wrote carefully. _I can't help but feel a twinge of pity for him. He used to be a great man, according to the records. I can't imagine how much it must hurt to fall from being a great General, to becoming the thing hated by all. Well, _Sandy reflected. _Not all. There are plenty of modern children, Goths, I believe they're called, who enjoy calling up dark spirits or Demons. (which usually turns out to be Pitch in costume, ready to scare the living daylights out of children.) I can't say I approve. If children want to call up demons, they should watch **Wishmaster** first and see what happens. _

Sandy chuckled, having seen Pitch sitting on the arm of a child's couch or on the floor of a bedroom many times when those particular movies were playing.

_I wonder where Pitch is now. It's been so long since I've actually seen him. _Sandy wondered. _The hole in the ground he calls a lair is still there. It only dissapeared for about a month or two. But the broken bed frame, which I actually thought was rather clever, is gone though. Now it's just a big dark hole where plenty of unwilling children will probably fall into._ Sandy chuckled again. _I can just imagine Pitch running around his lair, shouting himself horse at children he's just found, lurking in corners and messing with his stuff. They wouldn't even be able to see him, much less hear him. He he!_

Sandy broke off as a wave of chuckling escaped his mouth and his mind flashed with images of Pitch trying to corral a bunch of shrieking little kids, but going through them each time. Then he stopped as he realized what he was laughing at.

_No,_ He thought. _That is nothing to laugh at. All of us have felt the pain and sorrow of not being believed in. _

Sandy sighed and picked up his dream-sand pencil once more.

_I really should write more about my own experiences, rather than focus so much on Pitch. Still, my heart is telling me that what we did, leaving Pitch alone for so long, is going to come back at us again. I can't shake the feeling. I just can't! Not only that, but I really don't want to hurt Pitch. True, he was an insufferable moron during the time we knew each other before he began his life-long pursuit of trying to kill us, but at least he wasn't homicidal, like plenty of other spirits I've met. _

Sandy chuckled again.

_Not for a while, anyway. He had his share of bad moments, just like all of us. I can remember quite clearly the many times Tooth tried to run away from Santoff Clausen when she was chosen. North tried that too. So did Bunny. Then again, Tooth and Bunny were both magical beings right from the start, and Nicholas had always seen potential in everything, so he didn't try to run away that many times. Only about sixteen or so. I am glad they never saw my reaction to being a Guardian, _Sandy wrote solemnly. _I don't think I could stand to-  
_

Sandy suddenly stopped writing. Something was churning his stomach violently. Even though his clothes and hair was made out of dream-sand, his body was still human skin and bone. And his stomach still digested food the way normal people's did, although at the moment he wasn't so sure.

Sandy put the pencil down and rubbing his stomach tentatively. What was that feeling? It was like a nest of snakes was writhing in there. And, unfortunately, Sandy could justify this metaphor. He'd literally experience the feeling before, three thousand years previously, when he'd been naive enough to take Anansi the spider up on an offer for dinner with him and his wife.

The churning feeling grew stronger and Sandy tried to rise off his chair to reach the northern lights switch all Guardians that had their own homes had, but the feeling intensified too quickly and Sandy fell off of his chair and onto the floor, clutching his stomach and wincing against the pain.

He laid there for a good forty minutes as the pain cranked up and up. The writhing snakes became circling dragons and the circling dragons became thrashing Leviathans. Sandman had a very high tolerance for pain, but the agony growing inside his body was burning him from the inside out. He wondered, trying to shut out the thoughts of immediate doom that everyone who experienced pain had, what was causing him so much pain? Had it something to do with Pitch? He _had _just been writing about him.

Like the Guardians, Pitch Black had the ability to sense whenever his name, pseudonym, or alias was mentioned, thought, or even written down. That was how, in the days he'd tried to kill them, Pitch had found their homes so easily. They had all been worried about _Pitch_ finding them that they'd talked at great length about what they would do if _Pitch _attacked. Only _after,_ at least three hundred _years _after, did they discover about that particular power.

Sandy's thoughts were interrupted by another sharp pain coming from his stomach. He cried out in silent agony, thrashing to the left, then the right. The pain was unbelievable. He wanted to scream. He _tried _to scream, but the only thing that happened was a sharp, jagged musical note appearing above his head.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

At the end of the earth, North was busy in his workroom, making a caboose for another ice train and listening to Russian Orchestra when the first wave of pain hit him.

"Bum! Bum-bum-bum-bum- Zunt! Bum bum bum-bum, Zunt!" North said, happily singing along to the tune of the Russian orchestra. "Vere eez dat eggnog?" He hollered over his shoulder as the song grew louder.

The elves who were supposed to be bringing North's eggnog were in the room next door, licking the bottoms of the tall glasses that were supposed to be for North. When they heard his voice, they looked up nervously and their little bells started to shake.

North, however, wasn't paying much attention to his lack of eggnog anyway. He was laughing at the perfect little caboose he'd made.

"Ah," He said as he connected the caboose to the second-to-last car and sent it puffing along the never-ending ice train tracks. "Eez always nice to see finished vork." He smiled happily as the tiny train made it's way around his workshop, jumping gracefully from table to table and turning sharply when he came in near contact with a wall.

North grabbed another chunk of ice and started hacking off pieces to use as back-up cabooses, in case Jack or Phil came barging in, like he'd told them a thousand times not to do, singing a Russian work-song as he did.

_"Eti ruki ya ispolʹzuyu, chtoby moya rabota budet  
moy volshebnyy kran palʹtsev i chip  
led ya ispolʹzuyu, chtoby sdelatʹ ikh,  
moi ruki ya ispolʹzuyu, chtoby sformirovatʹ ikh  
okhladeyet , no mne vse ravno ,  
za chudo detyam diski moikh rukakh.  
Dlya togo, chtoby dlya nikh prekrasnyy podarok,  
dlya detey v mire.__"_

Translation (Roughly):

These hands I use to work my will.  
My magic fingers tap and chip  
the ice I use to make them,  
my hands I use to shape them  
grow cold, but I care not.  
For the wonder of children drives my hands.  
To make for them, the perfect gift,  
for the children of the world.

North was about to launch into the second verse, which mainly consisted of his brave warrior exploits, when a violent shudder that quickly ran through him. It rattled his bones and set is belly quivering. North coughed, wondering if it was stale eggnog.

After a few minutes, the shudder passed and he continued on carving and singing in his mother tongue.

"_Kto tak vsegda, khrabrym i smelym, kak Nikolay Sankt-Sever, __Koshmar istrebitelʹ, mech-zhiznelyub, naiboleye boyalisʹ_- AGH!" North suddenly yelled, clenching his fists and doubling up in silent pain.

* * *

A/N: Translation: Who so ever, brave and courageous, as Nicholas St. North! The Nightmare fighter, the sword-swinger, the most feared-

* * *

Phil was checking the wrapping paper supply and grunting to the Yeti who'd messed up the order at that moment. After reprimanding the Yeti in question, he flipped through his checklist to see if there was anything else he needed to get done before daylight.

"Garf Trogada. . ." (Let's see. . .) He said, flipping through the pages of orders he still had to fill. Ha ha. Phil. Fill. He'd almost make a joke.

Phil pushed past the crowds of Yetis who were carrying huge mounds of packages and through the massive workshop. He was careful to watch where he stepped though. About six years ago he'd accidentally trodden on one elf toe too-many and the elves had launched a full-scale war on the Yetis. They'd used paintball guns, small NERF blasters and miniature jet packs, none of which Phil had any idea how they'd gotten a hold of, and had nearly torn the place apart. Luckily it was the day after Christmas and there were no presents to , the Yetis were on their one night a year off and they got to spend it ducking flying water balloon missiles and running from hyped-up elves wearing jet packs instead of relaxing, as they well deserved.

But, just because he couldn't step on their toes, it didn't mean he couldn't occasionally kick one, (by accident, of course,) sky-high like a football, just to remind them who was boss.

"Huh. Football." Phil said to himself as he fussed over the cookie ratios. _That's a nice idea. An elf-shaped football. I must tell North about that one. _He thought as he climbed one of the many staircases that led up to North's workrooms.

Phil was _not_ your average Yeti. His fur-color, a light violet rather than the straight brown of regular Yetis, was one of the many things that separated him apart from the hundreds of Yetis working at North's Pole. Not only was he North's number one yeti, but he was head of security, head sleigh care-taker and snow-globe maker, among many many other things. He was the only one allowed to go into the upper floors, where North's private rooms and vaults were, and he even did a little toy-designing in his spare time, if he had any.

But Phil's talent didn't stop there. He'd proved to be a reliable comrade and a fierce enemy in battle, he was a top-notch engineer, and he even had some musical talent from the annual Yeti Christmas Carol. He was a loyal friend, a great cook, but most important of all, he was also a great friend to the Russian man. _  
_

Needless to say, Phil was an exceptional Yeti.

One of the other amazing traits he possessed was incredibly heightened hearing. Regular Yetis had sharp ears too. It was one of the many attributes that made them ideal security men, housekeepers, and cooks. They could hear the oven bell ring on a tray of cookies a mile away., but Phil could hear the individual clicks of the timer from ten miles away.

He heard the cry of the Guardian the instant the sound left his lips, even from twelve floors down. Instantly he knew that something was wrong. North didn't yell like that unless he's cut himself with the chainsaw, (which, believe it or not, _did_ happen many many times,) or something has infiltrated the pole.

Flinging his clipboard aside, Phil charged up the staircase, not resting, not taking even a moment's pause. The stairs shook with the pounding of the giant yeti's feet.

Back in North's workroom. . .

It felt like something was pulling on his heart. Squeezing it. If North didn't know better, he'd have thought it was a heart attack. Something had reached inside his body and started yanking, hard, at his insides. The pain was immense. Like being burned alive.

North tried to control his mind. He tried to think straight, but the mysterious pain that had him hunched over was like a giant wave, crashing on top of him, over and over again.

Finally the pain stopped for a few seconds. Long enough for North to set down his tiny pick and hammer, which he'd grasped so tightly that the intricate metal was cutting into his flesh, and staggered to his feet.

"Phil!" He called. His voice was husky and barely audible. Still, Yetis had good hearing.

Phil's suspicions were confirmed when he heard his friend's haggard call. He burst through the door, shortly followed by a small crowd of elves with empty tall glasses and ashamed expressions on their faces that had been standing nervously near the door.

When Phil and the elves saw North, they immediately rushed over and tried to help. Phil slid the big man's arm over his shoulder and hoisted him up to his feet. The elves didn't actually _do_ anything to help, but their bells jingled encouragingly and they put wide, but fearful smiled on their faces. They all knew that something dire was wrong with their old friend and comrade.

Phil helped North out of the room. After only a few feet, North was panting.

"Go," North ordered. "Go turn on de lights. I'll be fine. Something terrible has happened."

Phil looked doubtful as the warrior leaned against the door frame.

"Go!" North said, pointing. His word was accompanied by a ragged cough and hacking. It was like the Nightmare War all over again.

_The Nightmare War!** Pitch!** Was **he** behind this?_ North thought desperately as he tried to fight for breath. North turned back towards his workroom and looked out the window. And then he fainted.

The last two things North saw before he slipped into unconsciousness was Phil's worried furry face, staring down at him, and a blood-red moon casting it's scarlet light through the window.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

Jack Frost was, surprisingly, _not _flying around, spreading his wintery fun. He was actually sitting in the highest branches of an evergreen tree, looking up at the moon.

"So, what's the news?" Jack asked, not expecting a response. He wasn't disappointed.

Silence.

Jack sighed and leaned against the trunk. "Yeah, not much going on with me either."

Jack had just finished spreading his wintery fun in seventeen thousand cities. He'd instigated thirteen thousand snow days, ninety-nine thousand snowball fights, and frozen more ponds for skating than he could count. Needless to say, he was completely bushed. He pulled his blue hoodie over his head and curled up on the branch, ready to fall asleep and wake up the next morning, Bright and early to spread fun and happiness to children everywhere.

Of course, the sudden sharp pain in his gut blew all that out of his mind. In fact, the only things going through his mind, besides various curse words that Jack had learned from Bunny, North and Tooth, were, _What the heck?!_

The pain hit him out of nowhere. One second he was curled up on the branch, the next he was flailing around and rolling off the branch, falling to the snow-covered forest floor.

"AGH!" He yelled, trying to grab onto something, anything, to break his fall. His staff, which he'd left on the branch was tumbling a few feet in front of him, but he was falling too fast to catch it and before he knew what hit him, he was lying, face down, in the cold snow.

The pain he was feeling was immense. It clenched his stomach like a vise and he had to gasp out breaths. Jack tried to move, but movement made the pain intensify, so he just laid there, his hands clutching his stomach, wondering what was happening to him.

The sensation, though painful, was actually familiar to Jack. He'd felt almost the same way when Pitch had broken his staff.

_Pitch._ Jack thought savagely. Was this all Pitch's doing? _But, my staff is here, _He thought, trying to figure out-

"AGH!" He cried again. His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp jabbing pain to the side and he turned his head slightly to see what had caused it. What he saw made him scream like a girl.

He was looking into a huge, golden eye.

"Quiet!" The eye hissed in a scratchy voice, like a person who hadn't had a drink of water for a long time. "Do you want the whole forest to hear you?!"

Jack clamped his mouth shut, but that brought on another massive wave of pain and he whimpered slightly.

The eye seemed to relax. "I'm sorry," The eye apologized. "I forgot you are in pain. Are you Jack Frost?"

Jack nodded, bringing another wave of pain that was so intense his eyes started to water. He tried to see what was looming over him, but all he could see was the eye. It didn't help that he was on his stomach and he edges of his vision were too blurry from being pushed into the snow. Was he going to lose unconsciousness?

The eye bent down and Jack saw that the eye were surrounded by golden and orange and red feathers. Was this some kind of giant bird spirit? "My name is Summer. I'm here to help you." The giant bird, now known as Summer, said gently. "I know you can't move because of the pain, but my friend should be able to help with that."

Jack didn't dare turn his head again, mostly because he couldn't, but he could just barely see the shadow of a person on the edge of his vision. Who were they? Summer, he'd heard of, but this mysterious friend could be-

He stopped thinking and mentally grumbled at himself. He was acting like Bunny. Distrusting people who he'd never even met. What happened to first impressions make the best impressions?

"What indeed," Another voice said. Female, and completely human this time. Jack hadn't been able to place Summer, but from her name he assumed she was female. "This won't hurt a bit, Jack. Summer, back up will you? You're probably freaking the kid out."

Summer's giant eye blinked and drew back and Jack's suspicious were now confirmed. His eyes were still blurry, but he could just barely make out her huge feathered head, shoulders, and more importantly, her very large beak.

Jack tried to speak, but the mysterious girl said, "Shush. You're in safe hands, I promise. We're going to take you to the North Pole. Something very very bad has happened, but we need your to trust us, alright Jack?"

Jack saw the shadowy figure bend down to his level and he nearly gasped. It was a girl, but unlike any he'd ever seen. Her skin was a shade of translucent blue, and her eyes looked like tiny whirlpools. Literally. Even though his sight was blurred, he could distinctly see the tiny swirling tornadoes inside her pupils. Her hair was also tainted blue, though it looked originally brown, and she had a small smile on her face.

_ She looks like a ghost,_ Jack observed. He didn't dare say anything out loud though, for fear of either insulting her or the pain that would come of moving.

"A ghost? Hardly." The girl laughed.

Jack's eyes widened. She could hear his thoughts?

"Yes, Jack. Although unintentionally, I assure you. I have somewhat annoying talents, though useful. But that is a discussion for another time" The girl snapped her fingers and Jack felt himself being lifted slowly off of the ground. There was no pain, and the pressure on his stomach helped things a little bit, but then the invisible force turned him over and Jack felt a cry bubbling up inside him.

"Jack, if it hurts I'm sorry. I'm trying to be as gentle as I can," The girl said.

Jack wanted to give her the thumbs up, like Sandy had done to him numerous times, but he knew pain would follow, so he just blinked.

_It's OK. _He thought. _But, can you at least tell me who you are?_

The ghost-girl laughed. "Well, we could, but I have a feeling you are going to lose consciousness shortly and not remember any of this later, so I think not."

Jack felt himself be lifted up high, high in the air and settle on something was and soft. The pain of movement was lessened somewhat.

He tried to open his eyes one last time, but all he saw was gold and orange and red.

"Fall asleep, Jack. Let Sanderson's magic take you in. We'll see you when we wake up." The ghost-girl said gently, and Jack felt himself float away into a blissful dreamless sleep.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

Bunnymund felt the pain as well. Luckily for him, he was in his Warren when it happened. Unluckily, he was in his own private rooms, where _no one_ was allowed to disturb him.

He was working on a new kind of chocolate when it happened.

"Two cups of pure ground sugarcane,"

Aside from being a master of Tai-Chi, an expert tracker, marksbunny, sorcerer and painter, the Easter Bunny was also actually a master chocolateer and had, in fact, invented chocolate. Bunny still fondly remembered his first chocolate-making. He'd singed his own eyebrows and had used far too much sugar, but the Aztecs didn't care. They enjoyed it greatly and were the first people who had asked to learn his recipe.

"A cup of milk,"

Since then he'd made thousands of different types of chocolate, ranging from bittersweet dark to heavenly milk. He'd been the first being to make Chocolate Liquor and had been the first to try it on fruit, such as strawberries.

"Six ounces of- AHHHH!" Bunny yelled, dropping his measuring spoon and spilling cocoa powder everywhere.

Bunny leaned forward, towards his work table, so he wouldn't fall to the ground, but as he strained to hold himself up his arms spasmed and he dropped to the floor, landing hard on his knees.

"ARG! Bloody hell!" Bunny swore, thrashing to the left and inadvertently banging his left leg against his table. "Son of a- (Censored)!"

The pain in his stomach was unbelievable, and the pain in his knees and legs was swiftly catching up. His whole body was racked with pain.

"HELP!" He yelled, forgetting that he was the only person there, apart from his eggs. "Somebody, help me!" His voice was hoarse and barely audible. The movement of his jaw sent pain ricocheting around his skull and he had to bite down on his tongue, hard, to stop himself from crying out. Miraculously, someone answered.

"ASTER!" A booming female voice yelled from somewhere in the Warren. "Aster, where are you?!"

"HERE!" He croaked, not even caring who it was or why they were here. The pain was so incredible, he'd be willing to accept the Grim Reaper _himself's_ help if he offered it!

A minute later his door burst open and a tall, elegant woman in a shimmering green dress with flowing brown hair, and bare feet ran into the room. Her deep green eyes looked around carefully.

"Aster, where are you- Oh!" She said, her eyes alighting on Bunny's shuddering frame, sprawled on the ground. She instantly dropped to his side and rolled him over gently. It was painful, but Bunny just bit back the tears that were beginning to form in his eyes and looked into the face of his savior. "Aster, there you are. Thank Manny!" Her voice sweet and low, like a bird singing, and it was a voice he knew all too well.

"Mama E?" He croaked, attempting a chuckle that turned into a ragged cough.

"Dammit Aster, don't call me that! It's Gaia to you!" Gaia said sternly.

Bunny resisted the urge to laugh and wondered why, and how, she'd come here. "Gaia. What are you doing here?"

Gaia, more commonly known as Mother Earth, tutted and said, "Time for that later. Come on. We've got to get you out of here." She said, taking his paws in her long, thin hands. They were covered in ink and henna tattoos.

Bunny shook his head, though it caused a sharp tendril of pain to shoot up his neck and slipped his paws out of her hands. "Can't. Hurts too much." He croaked.

"Aster, we need to get you out of here!" Gaia said angrily, pulling at his arms again. "I promise I'll explain everything, once we get you out of here."

Bunny gritted his teeth once more, which he knew Tooth would vastly disapprove of, and slowly, with an enormous amount of effort, rose to a half-standing half-leaning position. The pain was unbelievable, and soon tears began to form on his face. Gaia noticed this and gently pushed her head and shoulders beneath his arm to support him better.

"Come on, Aster, I know you're a tough bunny," Gaia said, easing him slowly out the door to his room. "We just need to make it down to the flat area, then I can get us a ride."

Bunny was to focused on trying not to cry out to hear her. Together, with Bunny leaning almost completely on Gaia, they hobbled down the grassy path to the flat area where the river flowed. Eggs gathered around their feet as Gaia sat him down on a flat rock, giving him a chance to catch his breath, which was ragged and short.

"Aster, look at me!" She demanded suddenly, taking his face in her hands and peering into his eyes and Bunny was forced to gaze directly into her cool green ones. His eyes, however, were red-rimmed from painful tears, but nothing worse than that. "Good." She said to herself, releasing the rabbit. "It's not that bad."

Bunny hadn't the faintest clue what she was talking about and, even though his words hurt, he tried to say them. "Mama E, Gaia, what are you doing here? What's happened? Why-"

"Shut up, Aster." Gaia ordered, not even looking up from the tiny green bag attached to her dress that she was fumbling through. "Talking wastes your energy." She continued to fumble for at least another three minutes, then she said, "Aha!" triumphantly, pulling out a small green seed.

Bunny frowned and said, "What's-"

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" Gaia demanded, turning and staring down her small nose at him.

Bunny gulped, but he kept his mouth shut. You could argue with any spirit, anytime, any place, except for three: The Grim Reaper, Manny, and Mother Earth.

"That's right." Gaia said, giving him the look all mothers give to their children on a daily basis. _Don't try to mess with me._

Gaia threw the seed a few feet away from them and Bunny watched in amazement as the seed hit earth and instantly started to grow. In less than a minute, an elegant brown Cadillac was standing in front of them, with white-wall tires, what Bunny guessed was bullet-proof glass, and a bumper sticker on the back fender that said _Green Momma_.

"Since when did you upgrade to a caddy?" Bunny asked, forgetting the shut up rule.

"Since the nineteen thirties." Gaia replied, grabbing his arm and tossing him in the passenger seat."I was sick of people telling me that you didn't ride around in carriages anymore. And I thought I told you to-"

Bunny quickly zipped his lips and threw away the key.

Gaia gave him another _Don't mess with me_ look and slid into the driver's side, producing a black key out of nowhere. "OK, listen and listen good, Aster, 'cause I'm not going to repeat this."

Bunny nodded, bucking his seat belt tightly. Mother Earth drove worse that North.

"Something _bad_ is happening." Gaia said, putting the car in gear. "_Really_ bad. My sources tell me that the Guardians are in similar situations to you, and my gut tells me that so are the rest of the spirits of this world. I felt the same pain you're feeling, but much less intense. Mine only lasted for a few minutes." She grimaced at the memory. "Your seems to be going away quickly," she observed.

Bunny laughed and ended up turning it into a cough. "Nah, Mama E. I'm just good at hidin' my emotions."

Gaia nodded, revving the engine. "Ah. I see. Well, the other Guardians are all unconscious, as my sources have it. I sent people already to bring Jack Frost, Sandman, and Toothiana to the North Pole. Father Time is calling all spirits, good and bad, under flag of truce there so that we can figure out what has happened."

Bunny listened carefully. Now that the pain was somewhat lessened by the lack of movement, he found he could think straighter. So the others were unconscious, and every single spirit across the globe had felt this quick sensation of pain. Father Time was calling them all to the Pole.

_Oh goodie, _He thought sarcastically. _I'll get a chance to meet some old friends again. _

"Don't look so glum, Aster!" Gaia said, turning the key and putting her foot down on the gas. "You might see some old friends!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi guys! It's me again. Look, I'm seriously sorry for not being on for like, three weeks! My power keeps going out and my house is over a hundred years old! The only way I've been able to get the web for the last fortnight is by sitting in the old rusted bus back behind our house and trust me, it's not pleasant. **

**I _have _been able to keep working though. I saved all my Fanfiction stuff to my USB port and used that to access my stories. Anyway, I've been getting a lot of positive feedback, so I'm happy. Thank you for all the amazing reviews and have a nice day!**

* * *

Pitch fled.

He ran, faster than he could've ever thought possible. He didn't glide. He didn't Shadow-travel. He ran, through the night and through everything he could, just to get away.

He heard the blood pounding through his head and the impact of his feet against the road. He heard his own breathing, which actually wasn't necessary. Breathing was an annoying human habit he'd picked up, but hardly ever used. Sure, he snorted and inhaled and exhaled, but he didn't need to.

One single thought rang in his ears: _I killed a child. I killed a child. _

Pitch ran through another alley and turned sharply to the right. He had no clue where he was going. He just ran. His robe splayed out behind him, blown back by the wind. The wind was cold and full of moisture, but the relieving feeling of coolness was lost to him. He couldn't feel his hands, which were clenched in tight fists, and it was all he could do to stop from stumbling on his own feet.

He ran, faster and faster. He didn't know where he was going, only that he needed to go. Grim was right. He couldn't stay here, in Burgess. It would be suicide, once the rest of the spirits of the world found out what he'd done.

Pitch was scared.

That was what he realized as he ran through the streets of Burgess, passing lamps and trashcans and stray cats. There was no one on the streets at this time of night, which was nearly ten to one. He was completely alone.

_I killed a child. I killed a child._

Being alone was one of the most common fears in the world. Pitch had never experienced this type of fear personally, but he could imagine the feeling. Of course, he had been alone for almost ten centuries, but he'd never been _afraid_ of being alone. It was just something that came with the job description, like the bad smell of a garbage collector.

_Where will I go? _He asked himself. He had no allies. No one ever wanted to work with the Boogeyman. He'd burned too many bridges with the other spirits, and asking a human for help was completely out of the question. Besides, he didn't know any humans, apart from Jamie Bennett, who would call Jack Frost the instant he saw him.

He was confused, alone, and he didn't have a clue what to do. He just wanted to find somewhere to hide.

Now he knew how the children he scared felt. They wanted to get away from him, because they were afraid of him. He was afraid, this he knew, and all he wanted was to get away from Grim, the house, the worried mother, and the body. The dead girl's body. He wanted to get away!

But he couldn't. No matter how far he ran, through the pavement roads and through the street and alleyways, he couldn't run from the image of the dead girl's closed eyes. Her white hair. Her mother's voice.

"Anna?"

Pitch opened his eyes and stared ahead, making sure that he wouldn't run into anything and simultaneously avoiding patches of moonlight. He didn't want to think about what would happen if Manny got a hold of him. He continued to run.

"Anna?"

Pitch saw something out of the corner of his eye. It looked like a patch of bright light. His heartbeat quickened. It was Manny. He was coming for him. Pitch let out an unbidden yell and doubled his speed, but he knew this wouldn't last long. He could feel his energy ebbing away with each step he took. If he tried to shadow-travel and couldn't, he'd be dead.

Pitch's eyes began to water. The bright light was following him, as he'd expected it to, but it was also drawing closer. The bright light was beside him now, on his left. Now that he could see it better, he turned his head slightly and saw that the light was beginning to take a hazy outline. Was it a spirit? No. Too small. A human? Humans didn't glow.

"Anna?" There was the child's mother's voice on the breeze and it whispered in his ears. Pitch shook his head, trying to clear his mind. A trick. That was all it was. A trick of his mind. He didn't really hear a voice or see a glowing hazy figure beside him. It was just paranoia. He was afraid of Manny and so he thought he saw Manny. He'd killed a child, and he kept hearing her name on the breeze. Simple. He'd used these very same tactics for educing fear into children for hundreds of years!

"Anna?"

"It's all just my mind, playing tricks on me." Pitch said under his breath. He turned left at a street corner. "There is no voice, and I cannot see a glowing figure running beside me." Gliding was more the word.

"Anna?"

"Nothing there," He said, trying to drown out the sound.

"Anna?"

"SHUT UP!" Pitch yelled, waving his hands wildly above his head and thrashed from side to side and he ran, trying to get away from the voice but it just kept repeating, over and over again. "Anna? Anna? Anna?"

He was wrong. It wasn't just his mind.

"Leave me alone!" He yelled, tearing wildly through the streets. No one heard him. His voice echoed off the dark alleyways. His eyes were wide and full of fear. The silver in his eclipse eyes were practically none-existent and his mouth was open in a silent scream. The glowing figure- he knew who it was now! That voice! It was the mother of the dead girl!

_But,_ his practical side reminded him. _Humans can't glow._

All of a sudden Pitch stumbled on an uneven part of the road and fell onto the street. He couldn't bring himself to get up. All his strength had vanished.

"Anna?" The mother's voice asked. He raised his head painfully and saw the white glow becoming stronger as it came closer. He couldn't move. He couldn't think. The glow was becoming more solid. A body formed. A young girl in a white dress that reached her ankles with black hair and green eyes.

"Anna." It wasn't the mother's voice this time. It was the voice of the dead girl. The voice he'd only heard once, before she'd died. _Oh no,_ Pitch thought. _Now it all makes sense._ He had to get away! He _couldn't_ face her ghost! He tried to push himself up, but his skinny arms were too weak and he collapsed back onto the ground. He tried again, this time he almost made it to his feet, but he accidentally looked up at the glowing girl and the light blinded him and he fell back onto his knees with a painful thud.

"Anna." The girl's voice said again. It was quiet and sweet, like a lone dove's call. Pitch was kneeling on the ground and he lowered his head.

"I'm sorry," He said. He knew it wouldn't make much of a difference. "I didn't mean to."

"Anna." The girl said.

Pitch tried to keep his eyes lowered, but he couldn't. Something compelled him to look up into the girl's pale face once again. She was smiling.

"Anna." The girl said gently. She was coming closer. Gliding, like he'd done many times over to scare people. It wasn't hard to do, especially for a ghost. The girl was coming closer, and all Pitch's sense told him he should run, but he didn't. He was frozen. She was barely a foot away and she was still smiling. What would she do to him? He knew that malevolent spirits were captured immediately by Grim, but maybe he'd let this one go as a punishment for him. He deserved it, certainly. He'd killed a child. This Anna was the first child _ever_ to be killed by a spirit.

Anna stopped right in front of him and Pitch instinctively closed his eyes. His heart thudded and he wondered what being dead felt like. Did it hurt? Was it like being invisible? He'd known that feeling many times over. He wondered what would happen if she took him to Manny and he revoked the Immortality. Would he be forced to live out his life as a human, or simply cease to exist? Would he be re-born as another being, or would he become a kind of ghost himself? Stuck in limbo. Never being able to rest or eat or die. He deserved it.

He waited. What would she do? Would she take him to Manny, or would she exact her own revenge? Would she tell Grim to send him to the deepest pits of the underworld to rot? He waited.

After a minute, Pitch decided to opened his eyes again. He wondered if she was gone. She wasn't. She was actually an inch away from his own face and when he opened his eyes, he found that he was staring straight into her deep dark green eyes.

Pitch lurched backwards, forgetting he was on his knees and overbalancing with a thud. He was on his back.

Anna glided over to him, still smiling, and reached out a hand.

Pitch was stunned. Was she forgiving him? No, not possible. He'd killed her, just like he'd killed that woman in St. Petersburg and that old man in Italy. He turned to one side and tried to push himself up, but all the strength had been sapped from him while he'd been running.

"Anna." The girl said, smiling. She still had her hand out.

Pitch stared at her hand, then up at the girl's pale face. There was no trace of fear in her eyes. Not that she would be afraid of him. She was dead already, and his powers only affected the living. The living and children.

"What do you want?" He asked her.

She didn't reply. Just stared at him, smiling.

Pitch took the girl's offered hand gently and pulled himself upright. He was surprised when his hand didn't go right through her.

"Please," He said when he was back on his feet. "I didn't mean to." Anna just stood there, staring at him. Pitch's mind was churning. What could he say to the child he'd _murdered_? "I didn't mean to kill-"

Anna put her right finger on her lips and Pitch fell silent. He began thinking again about if she would haunt him or send him straight to Manny.

"Accident." she said slowly. "It... was... accident."

Pitch felt relief flood through him. She didn't blame him! (Although it had been his fault, really. He knew that, in his black-crusted heart.) Anna continued smiling. Her smile was warm and her cheeks glowed with happiness. Even though she was dead.

"Yes." Pitch said after a few minutes. "It was an accident. I didn't know about your pace-maker. I'm really sorry." The words felt alien in his mouth. He'd never apologized to someone before.

The girl just kept on smiling, like a parent would to a child that had gotten into trouble. It made him feel small and powerless. He hated that feeling, but in this case he just ignored it.

"Forgiven." Anna said, smiling.

Pitch sighed. "I wish it was that easy." He said quietly. "Once the others find out about what I've done, accident or not, they will hunt me down."

Anna's smile faltered. "Hunt?" she asked, frowning. Apparently she couldn't speak in full sentences yet. She must still be getting used to being a ghost and it's mental faculties, Pitch thought.

"Yes." Pitch said. "Hunt. It's complicated."

Anna's bright smile returned and Pitch watched her struggle to form words.

"I. . . keep. . . you. . . safe."

Pitch frowned and was about to ask her what she meant, but Anna wasn't finished. "I keep. . . you. . . safe. I. . . stay. . . with. . . you."

Pitch's eyes widened and the girl held out her hand.

"Friend?" She asked hesitantly.

Pitch's eyes widened further. Friend? Was she trying to trick him? He didn't have any friends! He was the Boogeyman! Children all over the world feared him! He was even _worshiped_ in parts of the world. Granted, those parts were rapidly disappearing, but they were there nonetheless. And she wanted to stay with him? Obviously because she didn't have anything else to do. Grim must've allowed her to stay on earth, rather than go wherever the dead go. Possibly he thought it would be like a punishment for him; seeing the image of the girl he'd killed every day for the rest of his life. Under normal circumstances, it might be. But since the girl had forgiven him he knew it might not be so bad to have someone around to talk to. Particularly if he was going to be hiding from the Guardians in a dank hole somewhere, which was probably what he would end up doing.

Pitch pulled out of his thoughts and saw Anna staring up at him. Her eyes were bright and hopeful. Her mouth tilted up in the left corner and the tips of her white teeth showed. Her black hair hung in shimmering sheets around her tiny ears. Pitch sighed. He was going to regret this. He knew it.

"Alright. Friend." He said, and took hold of the small child's hand.

There were two reasons he chose to humor the small child. One, he didn't want to have her haunting him until the end of his days. Two, maybe he could do with a friend. It had been a long time since anyone had tried to befriend him, and longer still since he'd accepted. Plus, it might be to his advantage to befriend this little girl. She might come to his defense if the Guardians found him- no, _when_ the Guardians found him. He knew they would. It was inevitable.

The girl let out a small laugh and grabbed his gray hand, squeezing it gently.

"Thank you." She said. And she didn't pause, so Pitch assumed she was re-gaining her power of speech very quickly.

"It's been a long time since anyone's bothered to talk to me," Pitch said after she released his hand. "You're the first in a good hundred years."

Anna blinked.

"My name is Pitch Black," Pitch said, bowing slightly.

"Illana." the girl said.

Pitch frowned. "I thought your name was just Anna?" He asked. That was what her mother had called her, after all.

"No. Illana." she said. Then she shrugged. "Too long."

Pitch nodded. Illana was a bit of a mouthful.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Not long after that Pitch went back to his cave. Illana, or Anna, as she preferred to be called, followed.

On the way there Pitch questioned her about things. Did she believe in the Guardians? She did, but only in Sanderson. She hadn't had many Christmas presents from North because her parents bought them each year and brought them to the hospital, and she hadn't been able to go on Easter egg hunts since she was five because of an egg allergy.

"And what about Toothiana?" Pitch asked.

Anna frowned and Pitch clarified. "The Tooth fairy."

Anna said that she got money whenever a tooth came out, but she hadn't thought about who actually took the tooth and gave her the money. She'd assumed it was her parents.

Pitch didn't even mention Jack Frost. That stupid boy didn't deserve any believers.

"What about me?" He asked her as they entered his forest. "Did you believe in the Boogeyman?"

"Yes." Anna said simply.

Pitch nodded, satisfied.

"But not. . . this way."

Pitch frowned, staring at the glowing girl as they walked. "What do you mean?" He asked curiously.

Anna looked up at the Moon, which was shrouded by the trees. _Good, _Pitch thought.

"Thought you were. . ." She paused, as if searching for the right word. "Demon."

Pitch raised a none-existent eyebrow. "Demon? I'm no demon. I am the King of Nightmares."

Anna nodded silently. She did not say anything more until they reached the hold in the ground that led to his caves.

The broken bed frame was gone, leaving nothing but a deep dark hole. The ideal entryway.

"Ladies first." Pitch said. He'd been born in an era where courtesy was highly valued and, even though he was a different person than he'd been then, he still retained some of his old mannerisms. Among them courtesy. Though he didn't get to use it very often.

Anna nodded and jumped into the hole, feet first. She let out a "WHEE!" As the tunnel carried her down to his home.

Pitch waited for a minute, then shadow-traveled down there after her. He still retained some of his power, though a long rest would no doubt be called for to recuperate.

He appeared in the center of his living room. It was very large and spacious. Pitch didn't have many belongings, apart from things he'd stolen to furnish his much-too-large-for-him home. These things included a black leather couch, a black-wood table, black-wood shelving that was built around the room to hold his vast collection of books, a black rug, a set of black curtains that hung around the bare rock face and a large black television screen, mounted up on the north wall.

Anna saw the screen and immediately her face brightened. "You have T.V?" She asked.

Pitch nodded. "Yes. I don't actually use that thing much. I prefer a good book to watching that ridiculous idiot box. Besides," He mutter ruefully. "There's never anything good on."

Anna smiled and asked for the remote. Pitch gave it to her willingly. It might give him a chance to distract her so that he could either rest or begin to think up a plan to save himself.

"I'm going to my rooms." Pitch said as he watched the girl flip through the channels. "Please remain out here."

Anna waved her hand, too focused on the screen in front of her.

Pitch rolled his eyes and walked back to his room where he closed the door and sat on his bed, thinking slowly and carefully about what he was going to do next.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi guys! Glad to see you're still reading and reviewing! I know the last chapter was kinds short, but I'm making up for it now! I swear!**

**Thank you to these reviewers: **

**WOTSWs, the Bloodless, Angel Raziella, Sofiaesteban37, Guest, Collins, KraZiiePyrozHaveMoreFun, SkyressFantesys, Starskulls, and ChaosWithImagination. You guys are what give me motivation to keep writing! Hope you like this chapter!**

**Alrighty then! Let's get started! **

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When Tooth woke up, she was in a small brightly-lit room. She had no idea how she'd gotten there. Nor did she have any idea why there were thick blankets covering her, or why she felt so sick.

Her stomach felt like it was eating itself and the rest of her body wasn't feeling too well either. Her head felt like she'd cracked it against something hard, but the pain seemed to be going away. Slowly, but surely.

The room around her had walls made of cold gray stone, a door on the other side of the room made from oak wood and iron hinges, and there were about a dozen flickering candles burning low all around the room. They filled the air with the scent of peppermint, pine needles, cookies and hot chocolate. Tooth didn't have to wonder long where she was.

_Pine needles! _She thought excitedly. _I must be in North's workshop!_

She smiled. North workshop was the most comfortable place on earth. True, there was too much snow for her liking, but the rooms were nice and cozy. Just like the one she was in now. It even had a large ornate fireplace made from red brick and stone. North knew she disliked the cold more than Bunny, though she was careful never to say anything of the sort around Jack.

_But why am I here? _She wondered. _The last thing I remember was falling unconscious after that strange fit I had. _Obviously someone had found her and taken her here. Or maybe it was Baby Tooth. Yes, that would make sense. Baby Tooth must've sent word to North that something had happened and he'd come to the Tooth Palace and taken her back here.

_That fit. . .what caused it? _She wondered. _I haven't eaten anything recently, and it can't be stress. That horrible feeling. _Tooth shuddered. The feeling had been unbearable. Like a part of her had just died.

Tooth shook her head. It would not do to have gloomy thoughts now. Right now she had to figure out what was going on and where everyone else was.

She sat up slowly, careful not to bring her headache back again. She stretched her arms. They felt fine now. She wiggled her fingers. Numb, but still moveable. Whoever put her here must've laid her on her arm by accident. Then she pushed back the thick blankets and heaved her legs out and onto the cold floor. Her legs felt fine too.

Tooth braced herself against the bed and tried to stand. After a coupe tries, she was on her feet again. It felt good. She stretched again, popping her back and rolling her shoulders. It had been a long long time since she'd actually slept in a bed. Her room in the Tooth palace was barely ever used because she was so busy working.

"Now for my wings," she said to herself. Tooth raised her beautiful gossamer wings up and they started to flap. One flap. Two flaps. Tooth could feel the power of her wings growing. Faster and faster they moved, ten flaps. Eleven flaps, until finally Tooth gave one strong _Push!_ and she leaped into the air circling the room, careful not to knock any candles over.

"Yahoo!" she said, zooming from one end of the room to the other. She loved flying. She loved everything about it! The wind in her feathers, the thrill of moving so fast that you have to dodge things the second before they hit you, speeding up past the highest trees and houses and then diving back down. It was the greatest feeling in the world.

Once Tooth had gotten over being able to fly again, she hovered over to the door and tried the knob. It was locked.

"Crumbs." Tooth said, jiggling the knob up and down. Nothing. "Hello?" she said loudly, banging on the door with her small fist. "Anyone there?"

Silence.

Tooth fell back onto her bed with her hands folded over her chest. "Why the heck is the door locked?" she wondered aloud. "It's not like I was going to fly off the second I woke up."

She listened for footsteps. Nothing. No one was coming.

Tooth sighed. "Well, If I'm going to be stuck here I might as well get some more sleep." She slid her legs back beneath the blankets and pulled the covers over her. They felt warm and soft. Tooth closed her eyes, hoping that the pain in her stomach, which was quickly receding, would be gone when she woke up again. The pain was gone in minutes. Unfortunately her rest didn't last much longer than that.

"Tooth?" a high-pitched female voice said. Tooth felt something shake her made a sound like a a creaking door and rolled over on her side. She was mostly asleep, but she could still hear the voice tutting and the tapping of a shoe on the stone floor. "Toothiana I know you can hear me. Wake up!"

Tooth made the creaky-door sound again and rolled over. She was more awake now. Not awake enough to open her eyes, but awake enough to mutter, "No one home. Leave a message."

Tooth heard a sharp exhale of breath. Then she was jerked completely awake when the mystery person grabbed her blankets and yanked them off. "Tooth come on! This is important! The others are all waiting for you!"

Tooth's eyes snapped open at the sudden shock of cold air as the blankets were lifted off her. "Hey!" She said, grabbing the blanket edge as it was pulled off her bed and yanked hard.

"'Hey!'" the voice mimicked. "You sound like a teenager. Come on! We need to get the meeting started and to do that, we need at least two Guardians! Up and at 'em!"

Tooth's attention suddenly moved from the blankets to the person who had woken her. She was a short woman wearing a hot pink shirt, blue jean-shorts and flip flops. Her skin was peachy-pink and her eyes were bright pink and full of mischief. That look in her eyes reminded Tooth a lot of Jack.

"Do I know you?" Tooth asked the woman. The woman let go of the blankets and brushed back a stray strand of hot pink hair from her face.

"Of course you know me!" she said, flinging her hands up and smiling. "True, I haven't seen you in a hundred years, but you should remember me!"

Tooth blinked. The young woman's smile grew by a couple of molars. Tooth's eyes zeroed in on the woman's teeth. They were dazzling white and completely void of cavities. Beautiful. Then Tooth blinked again. _Focus girl, _she told herself. _I've got to remember just who this is. _

Tooth thought hard. A high voice, female, pink eyes and hair. . . then it came to her.

"Aphrodite?" Tooth said, squinting at the woman before her.

Aphrodite's face lit up like the candles around them. "Yes! It's me, Aphrodite!" she squealed, throwing her arms around Tooth and hugging her tightly. "It's been a long time, I know. It's so good to see you again!"

Tooth had to smile. Now she remembered. Aphrodite, (who preferred to be called Tina,) was an older spirit that she had met at least three hundred years ago, during a complicated situation regarding a fighting couple. The girl had punched the guy and Tooth was there to take the tooth. Aphrodite was there to try and mend the broken tie. They'd initially disliked each other, but once Aphrodite realized Tooth wasn't going to keep the couple apart and Tooth realized Aphrodite wasn't going to take the tooth, they got on quite well. After that they'd kept in contact for two hundred years, then Tooth had become so engrossed in her work that she hadn't had much time for old friends.

"Good to see you too Tina." she said, returning the hug. "I'm sorry. I didn't recognize you for a second. My mind was a bit groggy."

Aphrodite grinned. "No problem. You did just wake up, after all."

Tooth smiled. "Yeah."

She released the goddess of love and looked her up and down. The last time she'd seen Aphrodite the goddess had been sticking to the commercial Cupid-look. Namely, a long pink taffeta dress that was a little _too_ see-through, a pick laced bodice and a large bow in her hair. Now, she looked more like a girly teenager with dyed hair.

Aphrodite returned the glance-over and said, "Well, you look a bit better than the last time I saw you. You still using that parakeet feather-shine stuff?"

Tooth blushed. Well, you didn't get feathers like hers naturally. "Yeah. I also found a shampoo for peacocks that works wonders on my crown." she reached up to pat the yellow and green feathers on her head.

Aphrodite nodded appreciatively. "Good going. I found this nice hair dye-shampoo a few weeks ago that keeps mine looking glossy and smooth. The dye doesn't even fade!"

Tooth frowned. "Doesn't your hair keep that color anyway?"

Aphrodite shrugged. "Yeah, but it still fades slightly each time I wash it without the stuff. And it takes so much energy to re-grow faded hair that I usually pass out afterword. It's a bitch!"

Tooth gave Aphrodite a terse expression. "I thought you stopped cussing!" She said accusingly.

Aphrodite shrugged. "I did, but it's a habit that goes away slowly. I'm trying, believe me! I don't like cussing anymore than you do. God knows I've heard enough marital disputed that begin when the couple starts throwing foul-mouthed insults at each other."

Tooth nodded. Then she remembered something that Aphrodite had said before she'd recognized her. "Um, Tina. . ." She said slowly, trying to remember exactly what she'd said. "You said something before about a meeting?"

Aphrodite clapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh shit! I forgot! Come on, we've got to hurry! Oh shit! Father's gonna kill me!" And with that Aphrodite grabbed Tooth's hand and hauled her off the bed and towards the door. "Hurry up!" She moaned, tugging on Tooth's arm.

Tooth, who was now even more confused and worried, lifted her wings up and hovered behind the agitated goddess. When Aphrodite threw open the door and tugged her through it, Tooth tried to say something but the goddess was too busy mumbling to herself. "Oh gods, Father's gonna kill me!" She said, yanking Tooth through a doorway and up a flight of stairs.

Tooth was still hovering, but she wasn't hovering far enough above the stairs not to stub her toes with every step.

"Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. OW! Tina, hold on a second! My toes are being bludgeoned to death!" She said, slipping her hand out of the agitated goddess's grip and hovering a meter above the stairs.

"Tooth, we don't have the time!" Aphrodite said exasperatedly. "Father is waiting with the others, and I promised them I'd bring you!"

Tooth frowned. "Father?" she asked, confused. "Who-"

"Please Tooth! I don't have the time! We need to get to the meeting room _now_!"

Tooth was more confused than ever. "What meeting room? Who's 'Father'? And by the way, what the heck are you doing here?"

Aphrodite's breath hissed through her teeth. "Tooth, listen to me closely: Something bad has happened and we need at least two Guardians to make the meeting complete. I promise I'll explain everything later, but we need to go!"

Tooth mulled it over for about a minute, then she sighed. "Fine. Where are we going?"

Aphrodite let out a sigh of relief and high-tailed it up the stairs. Tooth followed about a foot behind her and a meter above her.

"We're going to the second landing, in front of the globe." Aphrodite said as she ran. "All of them are there. Father Time, Grim, Patrice, Gaia, even Jack and Sally came! Bunny is the only Guardian besides you awake at the moment, but the others should be up and about in a bit."

As Tooth listened, her eyes became wider and wider. From what Aphrodite was saying, something had called the entire spirit realm to North's workshop. That had never happened. Not since she'd been a spirit anyway.

"All of them?" she asked. "But why? Have you had any messaged from Manny?"

Aphrodite shook her head. They were on the landing now, running and hovering down a long corridor. "Nothing but a request for there to be two Guardians present. He didn't say which two, but since Bunny was awake when he got here and you were the first to wake up, we decided on you two."

Tooth started. "Wait a minute, Bunny? He's here? What about Sandy and North?"

"Yes yes, all here. The only one who isn't here is that second-rate Boogeyman, Pitch Black."

Tooth nodded. "Of course. He wouldn't show up unless he absolutely had to, no matter what the problem."

Aphrodite nodded grimly. She'd only met Pitch Black once, and it hadn't ended well. Pitch had been in the bedroom of a teen who was dreaming about his girlfriend. He'd turned the dream into something nasty, and Aphrodite had found out. Pitch had walked around in a bright pink robe with bright pink spiky hair for a month.

Tooth and Aphrodite turned a corner. "Do you have any theories on what happened?" Tooth asked.

"Nothing." Aphrodite said. "The only common denominator is the nasty twinge of pain we all felt an hour ago. Everyone says they felt it. Bunny's seemed to be more violent that the rest of us. What about you?"

Tooth shrugged. "It hurt like heck." she offered. "My stomach felt like there was a live badger thrashing around inside it."

Aphrodite hmmed. "Mine didn't feel anything like that. Just a sharp nasty twinge. It only lasted about two minutes."

Tooth nodded. _Interesting. _

They ran/hovered around another corner and there they were. The globe was in front of them. A crowd of people stood on the other side of the room, talking in hushed voices. When they saw Aphrodite and Tooth, all heads looked up and the talking stopped.

Tooth laced her hands behind her back. She let her gaze travel slowly around the crowd. Some of the people she recognized. Ferthermore Tyme, commonly known as Father Time. Tall with golden robes and golden hair. He looked like Sandy's older brother. He regarded her with a warm smile.

Gaia or, more commonly known, Mother Earth. A goddess, like Aphrodite. Mistress of the seasons and Jack's boss. She was wearing a long green shimmering dress, and her black hair was braided down her back, threaded with vines and leaves. Her green eyes regarded Tooth coldly. Tooth didn't like Gaia, and the feeling was mutual. Gaia was, in her opinion, a huge snob who thought that just because she was a goddess she could walk all over people.

A small woman in green tights with a shock of spiky orange hair and pointy ears. Patrice Connors. The Leprechaun. Tooth hadn't had enough interaction with the woman to get a definite idea about her demeanor, but the Leprechaun nodded at her and smiled good-naturedly.

A tall dark shadowy figure, wearing a black hood and leaning one a very large black scythe. The Grim Reaper. Tooth shuddered. She never liked that guy. He made Pitch Black look like a rank amateur when it came to scaring. At least, he scared _her,_ and that was hard. Tooth didn't scare easily. She couldn't tell if Grim was looking at her because of the hood, but she had a feeling he was. The hood moved a millimeter every time she bobbed up and down.

Then her eyes landed upon Bunny. He was crouched on his hind legs at the edge of the crowd, examining his boomerangs. When he noticed the lack of conversation he looked up. Then his eyes followed the direction everybody was looking in until he saw Tooth and Aphrodite.

"Sheila!" He said, bounding over to them. "Boy, it's good to see ya up and about. How ya feelin'?"

Tooth smiled. "Good to see you too Aster. I'm feeling fine. What about you?"

Bunny smiled in return, thumping his chest. "Alive and kicking, as you see."

Aphrodite nodded at Tooth and Bunny, then walked over to the crowd of immortals and started talking to Father Time.

Bunny didn't pay any attention to Aphrodite. He was too focused on Tooth. "So, did she tell you anything?" He asked.

"Nope." Tooth said. "Just that something bad happened and all the spirits are being called here."

Bunny nodded. "Yep. That about sums it up. Every single spirit in this world was called here. We were only waiting on you."

Tooth nodded thoughtfully. "I see. So, do you know if North, Jack and Sandy are alright?"

A smile crept onto Bunny's face. "Yep. North is in his bedroom. Out cold. Sandy and Jack are in two of the guest rooms. Both sleeping like babies."

Tooth was about to ask another question, but a loud chirping sound interrupted her.

"Baby Tooth!" Tooth said, staring at the tiny fairy-girl who was buzzing around her head happily like a large rainbow bumblebee.

_Ofcourseit'sme! _Baby Tooth squeaked. _Iwassoworriedaboutyou! Whathappened?Youpassedoutatthepalace!" _

Tooth held up a feathered hand and made a gentle shushing sound. "Shhh. Shhh. Calm down. I'm completely fine. I just took a little turn is all." Baby Tooth flew up to her mother's face and nuzzled against it.

_Iwasworriedyoumightnotwakeup! _She chirped. _Youwereasleepalonglongtime!_

"Shhh. I'm fine, Baby Tooth." she said, patting her tiny daughter's head. "Now, I have some very important things to do. Can you go back to the palace and take care of the others?"

Baby Tooth shook her head resolutely. _No!I'mstayingwithyou! Oneoftheotherscan-_

"Baby Tooth," Tooth said sternly, stopping her tiny daughter's protests. "I need you to do this for me, OK? They need you at the palace."

Her daughter gave her a reproachful look.

"Baby Tooth, I will be back in a few hours at the latest. You can keep things going until then. I know you can."

Baby Tooth smiled proudly. Then she nodded.

Tooth patter her daughter's head again. "Good girl. Off you go."

Baby Tooth saluted hesitantly and zoomed off.

Tooth turned back to Bunny, who was staring at her with a small smile on his face.

"What?" She asked defensively.

"I've always thought those things were more like little possessed piles of glitter that birds." He said, staring after Baby Tooth. "Yeah. Little chirping squeaking piles of glitter."

The joke broke the nervous tension and Tooth laughed. "Yeah. She is a little sprightly." She admitted.

"Just like her mother." Bunny said, folding his arms over his chest with a satisfied smile on his face.

Tooth beamed. Bunny, annoying and negative though he may be at times, was a great friend. "Thanks Aster."

"Toothiana!"

Tooth turned around and saw that Father Time was striding over to them. His golden robes were shimmering and his bright blue eyes were covered by a pair of half-moon silver spectacles. His arms were outstretched and Tooth flew into them, hugging the old man gently.

"Ferthermore! How nice to see you again." she said, releasing the golden-robed man. "How is the Clock Tower?"

The Clock Tower was where Father time lived, in London. Humans called it Big Ben. It was a ninety-story building built in historic London in the eighteenth century made from wood, glass and stone. The numbers of the clock were made from black marble and the face was made of white pane-glass. The hands of the clock were also black marble and crafted carefully by the best artisans of the time. It was a beautiful piece of work. Tooth had only seen it once before, but once was enough for her to appreciate the great piece of old architecture.

"Fine. Fine. A little dusty but I'm used to it."

Tooth smiled. She remembered the interior of Big Ben had been remodeled by Father Time when he'd first moved in to the tower. The last time she'd seen it the inside had been decked out in gold and blue. Gold walls, blue edging and furniture. It was beautiful. Not much compared to the outside, but beautiful none the less. Hourglasses were stacked around the room in piles and the entire place had a glimmering aura that made you feel happy and content. It was a strange feeling for the lord of Time's domain, but Tooth hadn't paid much attention to it.

Tooth smiled. "Ah."

Father Time turned to Bunny and gave his paw a firm shake. "Aster. How nice to see you. It's been a long time."

Bunny nodded. He wasn't partial to the lord of time. They'd had previous dealings in the past and sometime during those dealings Bunny had developed a grudging respect for Father Time. A grudging respect tempered by a small amount of annoyance because of past confrontations.

"Yes, it has been. How have you been?" Bunny was careful to be polite in Father Time's presence. You never knew what could set off the older spirits.

"Well enough. Well enough." Father Time said, releasing the rabbit's paw. "I wish we had time to talk, really I do but there is a crisis going on and we need the two of you over here now."

Tooth nodded. Right. The mystery crisis.

Bunny nodded too. "Any theories?" He asked.

Father Time shrugged. "Plenty theories, but no real evidence. Gaia thinks it might have something to to with that fear spirit. Pitch."

Bunny growled. He had a score to settle with Pitch for destroying his eggs two Easters ago. "Pitch. Of course. He's the only one not here."

Tooth scanned the crowd of spirits. There were at least three dozen people standing there, and Pitch was not among them.

"So," she said, following Father Time over to the crowd. Conversations had begun again and no one paid much attention to the Guardians. "How did you call them all here?" Aphrodite said that Father Time had instigated this meeting and to do that, he must've had a way to contact them.

"Oh, we spirits all have our ways." Father Time said, winking. "I called Gaia and Grim, Gaia called her minions and sent out a world-wide call for spirits. The spirits from other realms were a bit harder to reach, like Jack and Sally." Father Time gestured to a tall skeletal man in a black suit with a spider tie and a woman with red rag-doll hair wearing a patch-work orange dress. She had blueish-gray skin and stitches going down her arms and face.

Tooth smiled. "Jack, Sally!" she said happily, flying over to the couple. The woman looked up and let out a squeal.

"Toothy!"

A broad smile split the skeleton's face. "Toothiana. My my, you are looking as radiant as ever." He bent and kissed Tooth's hand.

Tooth giggled. Jack Skellington was so old-fasioned. Kissing hands and bowing.

Sally wrapped her pale-blue hands around the fairy's shoulders. "It's been a long time!" she said, careful not to block Tooth's wings. She was still hovering.

"It has. At least three decades!" Tooth said. "How's Halloween Town?"

Sally released her and she and Jack shared a knowing look. "It's fine. The mayor retired a few years ago and my Jack took over. He's been doing an amazing job!"

Tooth smiled. "Well well, _mayor _Jack Skellington. It has a nice ring to it."

"Yes it does, doesn't it?" Jack said, smiling. "Almost as nice as _Mrs. Sally Skellington._"

Tooth gaped, staring from Jack to Sally. "You two got married?!" she nearly shrieked. A few heads turned her way.

Jack and Sally both blushed. "Yes." Jack admitted.

"You have to admit, it was long overdue." Sally added, making her husband blush more.

Tooth smiled and Bunny made a polite cough to announce his presence.

Tooth moved to the side so that Jack and Sally could see him.

"Aster!" Jack said, striding forward and bending down so that he could hug the six foot tall rabbit. "My goodness it's good to see you. How've you been?"

Bunny, who looked like he was about to faint in the skeleton's grasp, cleared his throat. "Oh, you know," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "The usual. Busy with Easter. Egg-painting. Stuff like that."

Jack released the rabbit and beamed down at him. "Ah. The curse of the holiday spirit!" He said, laughing. Both Bunny and Tooth felt a crackle down their spines. "How is Sandy Claws?" He asked.

Tooth frowned. "Who?"

Jack winced. "Oops. I mean North. How is North?"

Bunny shot Tooth a quick _I'll tell you later _look and replied, "North's fine." a look crossed Bunny's face and his face split into a small smile. "He'll probably be sad that he didn't see you."

Sally let out a small laugh and covered it up with a cough. Jack shot his wife an irritated look but Sally ignored him, examining her fingers innocently.

Tooth, who had no idea what they were talking about, (because she wasn't a spirit when the whole Nightmare Before Christmas fiasco had gone down,) gave everyone a scrutinizing look. Jack laced his finger-bones together behind his back and stared at his black shoes. Sally had a small smile playing across her face and Bunny's expression was neutral.

"What-" Tooth began, but Bunny interrupted her.

"Old conflict." He said. "Skellington had a bit of an identity crisis and tried to take over Christmas."

Tooth's eyes widened. "You _what?!_" She said, staring at Jack.

Jack frowned and said, "I did _not _have an _identity crisis!_" He said testily. "Yes, I did misinterpret a sign from Manny, but it wasn't that bad!"

Sally was giggling behind her blue hands. Tooth glanced at Sally beside her and they both rolled their eyes. Men.

"Not that bad?!" Bunny demanded. "_Not that bad?! _You _kidnapped_ me and North!"

Tooth's eyes widened further. "Say what?" She asked, looking from the irritated skeleton to the glowering rabbit.

They ignored her.

"You make it sound like I was personally responsible!" Jack said. "Lock Stock and Barrel just made a slight mistake!"

"A _slight mistake?!_" Bunny spat out through his buck teeth. "They drugged me with that nasty-smelling plant and stuffed me in a sack!"

Tooth sighed and turned her back on the male spirits. "Come on." she said, beckoning for Sally to follow her as she flew a towards the other spirits. "I have a feeling those two are going to be at it for a while."

"I know." Sally said.

"Men." they both said, then they giggled.

Tooth floated past a large brown creature with round spectacles perched on his nose. The Groundhog, she thought. "So, did you feel the twinge?" She asked Sally as they meandered through the crowd. She hadn't seen the young woman in thirty years and yet she still looked the same.

Sally tugged at a loose stitch on her wrist. "Yes. So did Jack. It was horrible."

Tooth patted her shoulder gently. "I know. I felt it too. Any idea what it might be?"

"No." Sally said, stepping around a crowd of Elves carrying milk and cookies. "But I've never felt anything like it before. It was like-"

"A piece of you died." Tooth finished.

Sally nodded. "Yes." Sally was a relatively new spirit. She didn't really have a job. She was just another resident of her world. Halloween Town. Jack was the real spirit of Halloween. The Pumpkin King.

Tooth and Sally walked past Father Time, Grim and Gaia, who were speaking in low tones. Gaia looked annoyed, Father Time was trying to placate her. Tooth could tell by the way he raised his hands.

Sally was watching them too. "I've never met these many spirits in one place before." she said.

Tooth nodded. "Ditto. I recognize a few of them, but-"

"Ladies and gentlemen," Father Time interrupted her loudly. He was standing in the middle of the crowd. Gaia and Grim stood off to the side. All talking ceased. "Now that we are all here, I would like you all to please find a seat so that we can get started."

Thousands of Elves brought chairs and set them down in a huge semi-circle and the crowd silently compiled. Sally and Tooth moved back towards Jack and Bunny, who were sitting three seats apart and looking in opposite directions.

Sally patted her husband's cheek as she sat down and Tooth punched Bunny's shoulder.

"Ow!" Bunny said, rubbing his upper arm. "What did'ja do _that_ for?"

Tooth shrugged. "'Cause I can." she said. "Now will you shut up so that we can find out what the heck is going on here?"

Bunny glowered. He was not having a good day.

"Thank you." said Father Time. He was sitting in a chair close to the globe. Gaia on his right, Grim on his left. Obviously those three were the head honchos here. "Now, as I'm sure the rest of you are aware," he said, speaking to the entire room. "This meeting is to determine the origin of the pain experienced by every one of us."

There were murmurs around the semi-circle.

"We received a message from the Man in the Moon an hour ago, requesting that two Guardians be present when he explains. Now that the Guardians are here," He nodded to Tooth and Bunny. Bunny and Tooth nodded in return. Faces turned to stare at the two Guardians. "We will have our explanation."

As if waiting for his cue, the moon appeared from behind a cloud bank.

Everyone looked up. Tooth and Bunny included. The Moon lazily moved until it was shining right into the center of the circle of spirits. In the center of the floor was a large mosaic with the crescent moon in the middle. A shaft of light shone from the moon and onto that crescent and the moon on the floor began to glow.

The assembled spirits stared at the floor, watching the blueish light spread like spider-web cracks along indents and lines. Tooth knew what was happening. The floor split open in the center and two halves slid back, revealing a circular hole where the crescent moon had been. There was a resounding click and a grounding sound, like a rusty gate being drawn upwards. Something rose up from the hole in the floor. It was a large blue gemstone, crusted to a metal pillar etched in bronze and gold designs. The stone began to glow.

Tooth's eyes were wide. The last time this had happened was two years ago, when Jack had been chosen as a new Guardian. Was he choosing another one?

All the spirits were silent. Father Time was slack-jawed. Tooth looked around and saw that the other spirits wore similar expressions. She frowned, then she remembered that none of the other spirits had seen the blue stone before.

Manny sent down another shaft of moonlight and the stone's glow grew until it was reflected in each spirit's eyes. It was beautiful.

Tooth waited with baited breath. What was going to happen? Was there to be a new Guardian?

Bunny was thinking similar thoughts. Only his were mingled with _please not the Groundhog, please not the Groundhog. _

Sparks began to appear around the blue stone. Blue sparks. They played around the stone like Jack's snowflakes. The shining light emanating from the stone sharpened and focused upwards, like a blue spotlight. Whirling sparks mingled with the shining light. The sparks solidified into a blue glowing orb. The orb was huge, maybe a foot and a half across, and perfectly spherical. It looked like the same kind of material as the glowing stone beneath it. The orb rotated and spun slowly, like a golf ball on a concentrated flow of air, bobbing whenever the blue beam of light pulsed, like a heartbeat.

_What on earth is going on? _Tooth wondered, staring at the orb.

Suddenly the orb began to spin faster, rotating clockwise and then counter-clockwise. Faster and faster the orb spun. Tooth was holding her breath. Yes, the stone had never done this before but she was curious to see what would happen next.

The orb spun faster and faster, becoming a blue glowing mass as it spun. Then the orb began to get bigger. The faster it spun, the larger it got, It was inflating, like a balloon. The orb grew to the size of a baby elephant. Then larger and larger still. Tooth wondered what Manny needed the orb for. The orb spun 'round and 'round. Tooth was getting dizzy.

Then, suddenly it stopped.

_Thank goodness. _Tooth thought, shaking her head a little to clear the dizziness out.

The orb was half the size of the globe now, floating on top of the stone's beam of blueish light. Everyone was still silent. The orb bobbed there for a few seconds, then an image began to form on the outside of the orb.

Tooth watched with fascination as the picture took shape. _This must be like Sandy's dream-sand balls,_ she thought. _They show a video-like scene or memory. _Sandy had used these to communicate with her several times.

The scene was fuzzy at first, like an up-close zoom lens, then it sharpened and focused. The picture was of a dark shadow with familiar spiky hair, bent over a child's bed.

"Pitch." Tooth heard Bunny growl.

Indeed it was Pitch. He was giving a nightmare to a child. Tooth could see the blue orb floating above the child's head and she could see the tiny girl's face was twisted in fear. Her brow was furrowed and she clutched the sheets of her bed, whimpering. Of course there was no sound, but Tooth could see the little girl opening and closing her mouth but forming no words. Hence her assumption that the girl was whimpering.

The other spirits watched carefully. Was it Pitch that had made them hurt so? Those who knew Pitch wouldn't be surprised if it was.

Beneath the blankets, a small glow appeared. It was easy to see, since the glow was white and the rest of the image was blue. It pulsed slowly, like a heart. Then Pitch smiled and touched the nightmare, and the pulsing quickened.

Tooth watched, her mouth open in a perfect O. What was Pitch doing?!

The girl whimpered again and turned in her sleep, but the glow still remained, pulsing faster and faster.

It _was_ her heart, Tooth realized. _Something's happening to her heart!_

The girl's heart beat faster and faster. The glow disappearing and reappearing almost as quickly. Pitch stood up and it looked like he was about to leave, but then the little girl's eyes opened. Pitch froze. The little girl opened her mouth to say something, but the light went out. Her heart had failed.

Tooth kept her eyes on the orb. Had Pitch killed her? Yes. The white beat of her heart was no more. Pitch stood frozen, staring at the girl. Her hair had turned from whatever color it had been to a blinding white that made Tooth blink.

Then, it was over. The orb broke up into millions of tiny blue sparks and floated down to the floor, disappearing before they touched the ground. The beam of blue light was pulled back into the stone. Manny's light disappeared, and the stone slowly descended back into the floor. The sliding circle shut with a loud bang, and the room was completely silent.

* * *

**Ok, before any of you start sending me messages about how inaccurate my description of Big Ben is, I'm gonna say this: I barely have any internet connection and it takes me forever to write these chapters! Usually I have time to research on whatever real thing I plan on using. This time I didn't. Forgive me all British people on here for probably using false information about Big Ben.**

**Anyway, Read, review, and enjoy. Thank you.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey people, I'm really sorry for neglecting my other stories. **

**For those who don't know, I have four other stories- two of which I've abandoned because I haven't gotten enough feedback, one is alive and kicking, one I really want to work on and this one is trying to make a comeback. **

**This newest chapter is part of that comeback. **

**I hope it's good. **

* * *

Pitch Black was sitting in his bedroom, on his bed, with his legs crossed. He was thinking.

"Always thinking." he whispered to himself. "That's me."

Right now, he was thinking about what he was going to do once the spirit world got wind of what he had done. He knew he would have to hide, hide and hope? Was _that_ his plan?

"Hide and hope that I don't run into anyone." he muttered sarcastically to himself. "Yes, that's a _perfect_ life-saving plan."

He was going to have to leave, and leave soon. If he didn't get out of here, he was going to end up dead.

Pitch sighed. Hiding was the only option that presented itself. If he didn't hide, then he would have to fight. No, that was _not_ an option. He couldn't fight, not against every single spirit in the world. That would be suicide. If he tried to fight, he'd die a gruesome death or be stripped of his powers, turned _human. _And that was a fate that he did not want to endure.

"To be turned human." he mused. "That would be the ultimate torture." And it would be. He would be unable to phase, unable to terrify children, unable to do all the things he enjoyed most. He would have to learn to do all those human things. Eat, sleep, breath. . . And he didn't think he could handle being taunted by the other spirits if he was turned human.

"If I must hide, then I must hide in a place where no one can find me." Pitch said. Speaking aloud made him feel more at ease. It saved him from going over everything in his head, which would drive him crazy. "Anywhere on earth is out of the question. There are spirits everywhere on this planet. But where then? I can't exactly travel through time."

"How about Mars? Hear it's lovely this time of year." A female voice said from the doorway.

Pitch opened his eyes and blinked until the black-haired, green-eyed girl before him came into focus. "Ah. I see you have your voice back." he said, uncrossing his legs and sliding off his bed and to his feet. He towered over the little girl, but he didn't turn on his benevolent fear powers. It was hard to scare a ghost. "And I thought I asked you to stay in the living room."

Anna smiled. "Heard you talking. And not completely," she said, pointing to her mouth. "Haven't- gotten hang of it yet."

Pitch nodded. "It'll take a few weeks to completely get used to your new powers."

Anna frowned. "Powers?"

"Sure." Pitch said, smiling. "Haven't you seen the movies? Levitation, teleportation, moving objects around with your mind, causing the wind to blow," he ticked off powers on his long fingers.

"Levitation?" Anna repeated. "Flying?"

"Yep. I can do it too. If I don't get murdered by the spirits of the world I'll teach you."

"Thanks!" She said gratefully.

"No problem." Pitch said. "But I did say if I _don't_ get murdered by the spirits of the world, which is the most likely future for me."

"Murdered?" The girl asked, confused.

"Yes." Pitch said. "I killed you, and because that is the most severe crime that can be committed by anyone in the spirit-world, they will most likely kill me for it. That, or strip me of my powers and turn me human."

The girl looked so horrified that Pitch laughed. "Don't look so shocked. What does the human court system do to a child-murderer?"

"They- they send him to prison." The girl said.

"Yes, and being turned human would be the ultimate prison for me." Pitch replied.

"But, you said-"

"Yes, I said they might kill me." he repeated. "There are certain spirits out there who would gladly do worse to me, simply because they believe it to be right. There are others that would kill me for what I've done and what I've done to them personally."

"You were a bad man?" Anna asked.

Pitch laughed again. "My dear child, I'm the Boogeyman. I have terrified children all across the globe, destroyed many minds and watched civilizations rise and fall."

Anna just stared at him blankly and Pitch threw up his hands in exasperation. "Yes, I am a bad man."

"Destroyed minds?" The girl repeated, frowning.

Pitch sighed. "Little girl, a long time ago I was a wild fear spirit. Much more evil than I am now, I'm sorry to say. I send the spines of children tingling with my very breath and I was feared and worshiped across the world. One of the reasons I was feared was because I had a habit of driving people crazy. Not children, mind. There was still a sliver of humanity inside me and that stopped me from hurting children, but I destroyed adult minds by the hundreds."

The girl's eyes were wide and her hand was covering her mouth in horror.

"You drove people insane?" she whispered.

"I did indeed." said Pitch. "And I had a grand time doing it."

Anna regarded him with her wide green eyes, staying completely silent but keeping her eyes trained on his face.

"What?" Pitch finally asked, a bit irritated. "I did. It was only for a few years anyway. Then the Guardians turned up and beat me bloody. I had to tone down my fear-quota and eventually I forgot how to drive people insane. Now, I just send a few kids nightmares."

Anna sighed. "So, what you going do now?"

Pitch shrugged. "I haven't the faintest idea." he said, sitting back down on his bed. "You heard me just now. I can't hide anywhere on earth, and jumping into a time-stream is completely out of the question. Father Time dislikes me violently."

"Father Time?" Anna inquired.

"The Lord of Time, one of the elder spirits." Pitch explained. "He controls time and space."

"Huh." Anna said, nodding thoughtfully.

They were both silent for another few minutes.

Pitch was still thinking about where he could go. Nowhere with snow, that was for certain. Snow was Jack Frost's weapon. Maybe he could head to a southern state? California? No, the sun would hurt him as much as it would hurt Jack Frost. Oregon? That place was fairly warm and also fairly shadowy. Perhaps Forks, where they filmed that movie about vampires. He'd fit right in!

Anna was thinking about something a bit more important that Pitch's problems. Actually, she wasn't really thinking. She was having a vision.

Having visions wasn't something Anna normally did. Actually, she'd never had a single one in her life. No weird premonitions about tests or about whither her mom and dad were going to break up- even if they didn't- and she'd never even once wished she could have that power. She was perfectly content with being a normal girl.

She'd done to sleep thinking about her birthday tomorrow. he would be turning thirteen, a teenager. She would soon be able to break through the bonds of childhood and into the adult world. She could soon learn to drive, vote, graduate and all the other things teenagers did! It would be so amazing!

Then BANG! She was dead. She was dead and now she was in the Boogeyman, her killer,'s cave and she was having a vision sent to her by Death.

In the vision, she was floating beside a small blue ball. The ball was floating too, spinning and turning gently while still floating far above the floor. She looked down. Below her, a wide spread- arc of people sat, staring up at her. A woman in a green dress, a man in golden robes, a little girl that looked no older than her in a pink tutu with a bow and arrow, a midget woman in green tights and a shock of red hair, a tall black-cloaked figure that reminded her of the Boogeyman.

"Hello?" she said, frowning. "Can you tell me where I am?"

No one answered her. they just continued to stare up at her, with their mouths open in awe or horror, it was hard to tell from about thirty feet above them.

"Hello?" she said again. "Can you hear me?"

Nothing.

She sighed.

Then she realized something important about her voice. It was working! She wasn't skipping words like she had while talking to Pitch!

"I can speak! I can speak!" she yelled, clapping her hands. "I can-"

_"Be silent." _a deep baritone voice said, interrupting her joyous laughter.

She turned around, looking for the source of the voice. "Where-"

_"I am right here."_ the deep voice said and she could detect an interesting accent in it. Jamaican?

"Where?" She asked, turning again, scanning the crowd below her. She wanted to fly down to get a better look, but she foud she could do no more than turn. She couldn't force herself downwards at all.

_"Here."_

Anna felt her gaze being pulled over to that strange shadowy figure, the one cloaked in black. He had something in his hands. A stick? No, a _scythe!_ This must be the spirit Pitch had talked about! The Grimm Reaper! The spirit who had taken her from her life and turned her into a ghost!

"Are you the Grimm-" she began, but the voice of the Grimm Reaper hushed her. His hood didn't move.

_"Be silent. There is something you must see." _

She frowned, wondering what the spirit meant. _Where am I?_ She wondered. Then she noticed a bright blow out of the corner of her eye, coming from behind her. She turned and saw, to her amazement, that a wide blue arc was erupting from the blue ball floating behind her. In another few seconds it was as flat and wide as a thirty-inch T.V screen.

_"Watch."_

She turned to give the Grimm Reaper a confused look, but he ignored her.

"Fine." she said, turning back to the screen and folding her arms.

What followed was perhaps the most emotionally stressed five minutes of Anna's life (or after-life, whatever.). She saw her own death, in wide screen. There was no sound, but she could see the real images of what happened in her own mind. She could hear it too.

"Why are you-" She asked, trying not to cry.

_"Be silent."_ the Grimm Reaper said again.

Anna inwardly sighed. _Why_ was this so important for her to see?! Yes, it was her death, but it wasn't like she hadn't already sen it. She'd _lived_ it, for heaven's sake!

After her hair went shock-white, (this she watched with fascination while rubbing her real black locks,) the images ended. The screen went blank. Anna sighed. "There, was that all?"

No answer.

Anna was about to ask again when she felt a tug in her gut, like something was magnetically pulling her down. "Hey, what the-"

_"Don't struggle."_ the voice said. _"It's hard enough to bring you here without the other knowing."_

She complied, letting herself float gently downward in the middle of the arc of people. They were all staring up in silence. There was a strange rainbow creature with the wings of a hummingbird and the face of a woman that was siting next to a skeleton who looked more distraught than the rest. A giant rabbit put his arm around her.

"Are these the Tooth fairy and the Easter Bunny?" she asked, turning to look at the Grimm Reaper.

_"Yes."_

"Why do they look sadder than the others?"

_"Because the direct loss of a child who believes affects them more than the rest of us. Unlike them and your new friend, Pitch Black, we do not have to have belief to survive." _

Anna frowned. "You know I'm with Pitch?"

The Grimm Reaper laughed. It was deep and rolling, like a thunder-clap._ "My child, who do you think sent you to him?"_

"But, I thought-"

_"You thought you went to him of your own accord."_ the spirit finished. _"How sweet. But no, that was me. I sent you to him in an effort to stop him from destroying himself._"

"Destroying himself?" Anna asked, frowning.

_"Yes. Pitch Black may have done some foul things in his past that even I do not condone, but he still had a sliver of humanity in him. He understands that what he did was wrong and it is eating away at him inside."_

_"_But I forgave him!" Anna said, horrified at what the spirit was saying. "I told him it was an accident!"

_"And so it was."_ The Grimm Reaper said. _"He did not mean for you to die, but you did. All beings with humanity in them cannot stand the death of another being like them at their own hand. And since he still has humanity within him, he cannot stand the fact that he killed you, despite what he may or may not have told you."_

Anna thought about this. "You mean," she said slowly. "That even if I forgive him, talk to him, he still won't forgive himself?"

The Grimm Reaper was silent. Then he sighed. The breath sounded almost sad.

_"Frankly, I'm not sure. I thought that seeing you, talking to you might lessen the burden of self-blame he had created for himself but. . ._" he sighed again. _"Pitch Black is a stubborn man."_

Anna nodded. "So, if I try to work on it with him, help him, he won't. . . destroy himself?"

_"There is a chance. He is a stubborn man._" the Grimm reaper repeated. Anna had a feeling he was talking about more than Pitch blaming himself for her death. There was a history between these two, one that was painful for them both to talk about. She resolved to ask Pitch, _discreetly,_ about it later.

"So. . . what _have_ you brought me here for?" Anna asked, trying to change the subject. She knew that the Grimm Reaper had to have a reason for pulling her out of Pitch's caves and here, to this weird meeting.

_"Ah. Yes, to business,"_ the Grimm Reaper said. _"You are here, Ilana Morgan, because there is something very important about to be said here that will be useful for you and your new friend. Listen closely."_

Anna nodded, not even bothering to wonder how the Grimm Reaper knew her name. He was a _spirit, _DER!

Before Anna could react, the whole room erupted in a broil of noises, voices, questions and complaints.

"What's going on?"

"Who was the girl?"

"Was that Pitch Black?"

"The Boogeyman?"

"Yes, I think it was."

"Is she dead?"

"THAT MONSTER KILLED HER!"

"PLEASE!" a man in a set of golden robed with a great long beard said loudly, raising his hands for silence. "PLEASE, ladies and gentlemen! We can't jump to conclusions!"

"That is Father Time?"

_"Yes. Be quiet."_

"_Jump to conclusions_?" a voice rang out. "He killed her! A spirit killed a child!"

"Aphrodite," Father Time said, staring at the a woman in a pink dress with flowing hair and a furious expression on her face. "We don't know if Pitch killed the child voluntarily or by accident!"

"ACCIDENT?" another woman shrieked. This one was short and wore green tights and had a shock of flaming red hair tied up in a ponytail. "He killed someone, Furthermore!"

"A child!" another voice spoke up.

"Yes, but we don't know-"

"He killed her!" Aphrodite said again.

"SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU!" shouted the woman in rainbow feathers. "Aphrodite, I know you're shaken after what you saw. We all are, but we have to be reasonable about this."

"I agree," said a tall skeleton, standing up. "There is a chance he did not know of that machine in her chest."

"This could all be a misunderstanding." a tall woman with red hair like yarn said, standing beside the skeleton.

"A misunderstanding?!" the tiny green woman yelled angrily. "He killed her!"

"Yes," said the a tall woman in green, also standing. "He did, but there are circumstances in which he-"

"To Hell with your circumstances Gaia!" the short woman said. "There is a child dead! That was the shudder we all felt."

"We can't be sure-" Father Time began, but the short woman interrupted him. "Aster, you and Toothiana a felt it more than we did, didn't you?" she said, turning to the fairy and the giant rabbit.

The giant rabbit shuffled uncomfortable. "Yeah," He said. "I cant speak for Tooth"

"Yes, you can. I felt it, and the pin knocked me out."

"There you go!" the short woman said. "The death of a child has more serious repercussions for the Guardians than for the rest of us. They felt it!"

"But why don't we feel the death of _every _child that dies then?" Countered the Tooth Fairy.

"Because they weren't killed by a spirit." replied the skeleton. "This is an event never-before experienced, correct?"

"Indeed. There has never been the death of a child by a spirit's hands." Father Time agreed.

"There you go." The skeleton said, sitting back down again. "This has never happened before and I'm not sure that we even have rules to govern this type of situation. Do we?"

"No, we don't." Father Time conceded. "Everyone please, sit down. We must discuss this rationally."

Everyone sat down. The tiny woman folded her arms over her chest.

"Now," Father Time said. "We know what that twinge was that we all felt. We know who caused it, but what we don't know is why. Why would Pitch Black do such a thing?"

The others all shrugged, except for the Tooth Fairy. "He wouldn't. Plain and simple." She said. "Pitch Black is many thing, but he does not kill for the fun of it."

"We don't know that!" the tiny woman said. "Maybe he's trying to find a different way of collecting Fear and killing children is the only way he can-"

"That doesn't make sense,' Tooth argued. "He was defeated. Left to fend for himself! Why would be kill a child, just for some fear?"

"Maybe he was desperate for fear and-"

"He wouldn't be _that_ desperate." the yarn-haired woman said. "Killing a child would alert us to his presence and why would he want that?"

"It is confusing." Father Time admitted. "We cannot assume anything."

"Why don't we talk to the master of death?" suggested one of the others in the crowd. A tall woman with the head of a cat and what looked like paws for hands. "He may have been there, it being his job and all.

Anna looked at the Grimm Reaper. He made no move.

"Grimm?" Father Time asked.

The hooded being detached himself from the shadowy walls and, without a word, walked out until he stood in the center of the room. He stood, holding his scathe loosely at his side and Anna wondered where he was looking. his head stayed motionless, but she had a feeling he was staring at each and every spirit in turn.

"I was there." he said finally. His voice was low and yet it enveloped the whole room, echoing like quiet laughter throughout the room. All speaking and muttering ceased.

"I was there." he repeated in the same echoy voice. "I saw."

"What did you see, old friend?" Father Time asked respectively.

"I saw him. He did not mean to kill her." he said.

"Well of course he didn't," Anna said tersely. "And why were you there anyway?"

_"To take your spirit to the after-life. Now hush!"_

"Then why aren't I-"

_"I said hush!"_

"Fine." Anna sulked, folding her arms over her chest.

"And how do you know his motives?" asked the woman in green. She was also acting more respectful that she had before. Maybe it has something to do with the scythe.

"He told me." The Grimm Reaper said plainly.

"That is well and good, old friend," Father Time said cautiously. "But we should have evidence, not just your word."

"Oh, and if _Pitch Black_ tells us that he _didn't mean to do it_, we'll believe him?" the woman in green said, casting a nervous glance at the Grimm Reaper.

"Pitch Black does not lie." The Grimm Reaper said, surprising the listeners and Anna herself. "He spoke the truth. He did not mean to kill her."

"You seem to have spoken to him in depth," the woman said, looking at the Grimm Reaper. "Did he, perhaps, say where he was going?"

"He did not."

"Then, to make sure we have all the facts straight, we should find him and bring him back here." Toothiana said, folding her arms. "That is the most likely next step we should be taking anyway. We find him, bring him here, question him and if it can be proven that he did not intentionally kill he child, we will-"

"It doesn't matter if he did it intentionally or not!" seethed the green woman. "He did it! That's the whole point! He should be punished."

Murmurs went around the room. Murmurs of _ascent._

"No," Father Time said. "He will be tried first. We do not punish without evi-"

"We're not in a human court, Father." sneered the woman in green. "He killed a child, he needs to be found. Then when he is found, he will pay. Simple as that."

"Oh?" asked the tall woman beside Father Time, cocking her head and giving the short woman in greet a scathing look. "And how will you make him pay, Patty? With _bad karma_?"

The short woman jumped up but Father Time banging his chair-legs on the floor. "SILENCE!"

The woman glared at each other.

Father Time sat down gently and said in a placating voice, "We will discuss Pitch Black's punishment when he is found. There is no sense doing otherwise. Right now, we must focus our efforts on finding him. All spirits withdaily jobs can search for him during their rounds. All without may focus their efforts on their perspective jobs and making preparations for their holidays and so on."

"Thith will not be necethhary," a new person said. Anna looked and saw, with horror, that the speaker was a giant spider with the head of a woman! Her body was that of a giant tarantula and she was seated next to another being with the upper body, arms and head of a handsome tanned man, but the loser body and legs of a spider!

The spider-woman skittered forward on long, hairy legs. "My thonth and daughterth can find him eathily."

Anna wondered what was making her lisp and she flew over to take a closer look. When she saw, she recoiled in horror.

Behind the heavy curtain of greasy black hair, the woman had two sharp spider-fangs elongating out of her mouth. They clicked and clacked against each other each time she spoke. They were what caused her lisp! Anna shuddered. Spiders were what she was having a nightmare about when Pitch had killed her.

"Arachne," Father Time said. "Your offer is appreciated, but will your sons and daughters be able to catch him? He is probably long-gone from his caves."

"My thonth and daughterth are quite fatht, Father Time." the spider-woman lisped. "They will bring him to uth within a day."

_"Did you get that?"_ The Grimm Reaper's voice asked.

"Um, yeah, I got it." Anna said. "But what-"

"Anna?" A voice. Who's? Her brothers'?

No. He didn't sound like that.

Her father then. "Go away!" Anna called. "Can't you see I'm doing something important?"

"Anna!" The voice was persistent.

"Go away Jacob! I can't go outside to play with you right now!"

She turned to the Grimm Reaper again.

"What's-"

"ANNA!"

"Alright, alright, I'm awake!" Anna said angrily, wishing that Jacob would go away! Here she was, having the first really good dream in weeks, and he had to go and ruin it because he probably wanted to play Bakugan.

"Anna! Anna! Can you hear me?"

"Of course I can hear you you dim-bulb! You're right in my ear!" Anna yelled, opening her eyes. It wasn't her brother's face she was looking into.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Pitch was tired. He was tired of thinking and he just wanted to have a few minutes rest. Although his heart cried out for sleep, his mind was still thinking.

_I can't go to anywhere too southern, nor anywhere too northern. Nowhere with sun all the time, and snow is absolutely out of the question! I'd be dead for sure. _He paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. _Chicago is a nice city. Windy though, and the wind is Jack Frost's ally. Canada? They have mild winters. No, too populated. Ireland is nice, and it doesn't get much snow. The same with any of the UK. Maybe UK is the place for me to go!_

Then he remembered that Father Time lived in Big Ben. That ruled out London and all of England, just for good measure.

_What about Africa? No, way too hot. All of South America is out, as is Australia and Asia. Russian is completely out of the question! That would be like living in North's backyard! _He sighed._ Where can I go? _

Pitch thought and thought, becoming more and more tired with each idea his mind told him. _There are other countries besides England and Asia in the east! _He told himself. _Spain, for one! Italy, Germany, Poland, Romania, Yugoslavia, Greece, Portugal. . ._

He sighed again. All places that he was sure hadspirits living in especially! And why was he even considering Ireland?! That was where the Leprechaun, Patrica Connors, resided. And _she_ hated him even more than the Guardians did, on account of a cruel trick he'd played on her in his youth.

Finally he wondered if Anna had any good ideas about where he should go. She was human, so she should know plenty of good neutral-temperature climates. Didn't they teach children about climates in schools?

"Anna, where do you-" he said, turning to face the girl, then he stopped. Something was wrong with her. She had her hands clasped together around her knees and she looked like she was rocking back and forth ever so slightly. Her eyes were closed.

"Anna?" she didn't respond. He stood up, a little worried by her behavior. "Anna, are you alright?"

Nothing.

"Anna? He said again, this time trying to poke her shoulder as gently as he could and not startle her. His finger went right through her.

"That was stupid." He told himself. "Anna?"

She didn't move an inch except for to rock back and forth a few inches.

"Anna?"

"Go away!" Anna yelled without any form of warning, causing Pitch to jump about a foot. "Can't you see I'm doing something important?"

Finally a reaction! Albeit not the reaction he was looking for.

"Some thing important?" Pitch repeated. "What?"

She stayed silent.

"Anna!" Pitch said, trying to shake her shoulder but his hand passed right through. He cursed.

"Go away Jacob! I can't go outside to play with you right now!"

"Jacob?" Pitch said, puzzled. "Who is Jacob?"

Anna stayed silent.

"ANNA!"

"Alright, alright, I'm awake!" Anna said angrily, rocking back and forth harder and faster than before.

Pitch doubted it. She was either having a particularly lucid dream or she could really understand him and she was just messing with him.

"Listen little girl, if you are somehow trying to trick me," Pitch warned as she began to rock back and forth harder and harder.

No response.

"Anna! Anna! Can you hear me?" he said, again trying to grab her shoulder but failing.

"Of course I can hear you you dim-bulb! You're right in my ear!" Anna yelled, inexplicably snapping open her eyes and staring right into his bright-gold and slightly fearful ones.

Several emotions passed over the Boogeyman's face then. Shock and surprise because of how quick she snapped back to reality from wherever she'd been, confusion as to why the heck she was calling him Jacob, annoyance because she had called him a 'dim-blub', worry because of how weird she was acting and finally relief that she was back to normal- or, as normal as a ghost who was friends with the Boogeyman could be.

"Anna, what on earth was that?" Pitch asked, staring down at her.

Anna looked at him, saying nothing for the longest time.

"ANNA!" Pitch yelled, nervousness and worry creeping into his voice. "Anna!"

Silence.

"Anna, speak to me blast you!" he demanded, wishing he could give her a pinch to jolt recognition or something like that.

Nothing.

Pitch got down onto his knees so that he was eye-level with her. He tried t hold her by the arms, but his hands went right through. "ILLANA MORGAN, SPEAK TO ME!"

Anna just stared at him, then, just as he was about to turn away, she opened her mouth.

"I. . . hate. . . Grimm. . . Reaper. . ."


	7. Chapter 7

**OK first of all, I'd like to thank ObsidianLove for her six phenomenal reviews to this story. I'd actually all but given up on this one because of how busy I am with my other story, The Boogeyman tries to understand Fanfiction, but now I'm tanned, I'm rested, and I'm ready to give this old story a wedgie again!**

**he he. !) Sorry, I was channeling Joker there for a minute.**

**But seriously, I'm ready to take a quick break from the Boogeyman and start again on this one, fresh anew, and Obi was a big part of why. All of why, actually. Thank you Obi.**

**To I can not think of a pen name, (Great pen name by the way) don't worry. The ToothxPitch is coming.**

* * *

"Pitch you gotta go faster! They're right behind us!"

Pitch whirled, sending a shower of nightmare sand at the scuttling mass behind them. "I'm going as fast as I can!" he shouted, jumping into another shadow. The feeling of insubstantiality rushed over his body and he felt his individual molecules and atoms separate and break apart as he traveled through the world-shadows. It was like jumping into a whirlpool. The feeling was completely unbeatable and he would've enjoyed it more, had a hoard of murderous spiders not been after him.

He appeared in some unknown location, spit out like a nasty-tasting vegetable by a ten-year-old, and checked behind him. Yep, they were still coming after him. Thousands upon thousands of black, grey, giant and miniscule spiders charged through the shadow-portal and towards him. There were giant bird-eating spiders, Black Widows, tarantulas, wolf-spiders, daddy long-legs, orb spiders and every other spider on the face of the earth besides. They came in a writhing, furious mass, eager for blood.

Pitch looked around. There was nothing he could do! Fight? Not much of an option. Hide? They'd find him. The only way was through another shadow-portal. He found the nearest patch of darkness and was about to step into it when something screamed behind him.

"WAIT!"

Pitch turned and saw Anna running towards him, still in the city he'd just come from, battling her way through the spiders who reached up with their venomous fangs as she hurtled herself towards him. Each time she took a step she phased through a spider and that sent a ripple of distortion through her ectoplasm body. The way she was running now made her look like a patch of sunlight reflected off of water, wavy and unfocused.

Pitch called her name, but through the mire of hissing and scuttling, she couldn't hear him. The spiders were closing in. He knew he would have to go, and go soon! _She_ may have the advantage of being dead and not being able to feel them, but if he got bit by even _one_ of those monstrosities then he would be paralyzed for sure and taken back to the North Pole where they would try and punish him, and he had no intention of doing that.

Spiders were already coming through the portal and into his current location, but he couldn't close it! Not until Anna came through!

"PITCH!" she called. She was getting closer, but he knew she couldn't make it. The spiders were too fast! He could feel fear, sharp and strong against the rank odor of spiders, coming off her in huge waves. Could ghosts feel fear? Apparently so.

Pitch allowed himself a brief glimpse into her fears and guilt struck him like a blow in the stomach.

She was afraid of being overwhelmed by the spiders. He could see images of her cowering in a corner as thousands of the creatures swarmed over her body and spun their tomb around her. She was crying.

Pitch gritted his teeth. Of course! That stupid nightmare. Why had he been so cruel? _WHY?_

Then he saw another image. One that mimicked their situation now. Her, running, the spiders hissing, but with one crucial difference.

He was stepping through the portal and leaving her.

"PIIIITCH!" she screamed again."GOOOO!"

"NO!" he called. "I WON'T LEAVE!"

He threw another bout of nightmare sand at the spiders that had come through and about a hundred of them fell unconscious. A hundred, out of the ten thousand that were still with Anna. Not much.

"PITCH! GET OUT OF HERE!"

Pitch's mind was racing. She was afraid he'd leave her, but she wanted him to go? Was she telling him to save himself?

Anna was ten feet away! She could make it! She could! She ran faster and harder than ever before, her feet actually leaving the ground as she ran and floating at least five inches above the ground, away from the spiders. She ran and ran! Would he leave her? No, Pitch wouldn't! Her mouth was telling him to go, save himself, but her brain said _Don't leave me! Please! Don't leave me!_

She had always been alone. Sick, tired, never allowed out of her room for fear she'd catch another disease, friendless, except for those kids whose parents _made_ them come bearing flowers and balloons to 'pay their respects' as if she was already dead! Always wishing for her to get well but never actually _meaning_ it. All she ever wanted was to be a normal healthy child. To be loved. To have a friend. Now the only being who had ever been her re_a_l friend was about to be murdered by spiders!

Anna would've laughed bitterly if she hadn't been using each drop of ectoplasmic energy in her body to run. There was someone out there with a sense of humor.

"PIIIIIIIITCH!" she yelled one last time. The spiders were getting too close to him. She wasn't going to make it!

Then the spiders overtook her and, with one last look, Pitch stepped through the shadow-portal, leaving her alone.

"Pitch NOOOOOOOOOO!"

XXXXXXXXXXX

**Several hours earlier. . .**

"Anna? Anna?"

Pitch was trying to hold her arms but his hands kept going right through them. He cursed under his breath and tried to remain calm. Until now he'd never fully appreciated being able to make physical contact with another being. Even when he'd been written off as a bad dream in the end of the Dark Ages he hadn't cared about not being able to touch the children he scared. Being seen was more important than being able to feel, wasn't it?

"Anna? Can you hear me?" he asked again, gently. If he shocked her or surprised her now, her ghostly energy- which was called ectoplasm and was currently on autopilot since she was in a dream-state and had no control over her powers, could send out a kind of electric pulse strong enough to send him flying. He'd dealt with ghosts before, and had been pretty beaten-up by a few, but never had he seen something like this.

"I. . . Hate. . . Grimm. . . Reaper." she said again. Her speech was slurred, like she was drunk and she swayed, tilting towards the left.

Pitch tried to keep her from falling over but his arm went right through her and she fell onto the bed with a soft _*thud*. _Pitch sighed. And all he could do was shout.

"ANNA! WAKE UP" he yelled as loud as he could. To heck with her energy!

Anna winced slightly and tried to turn her head, but she didn't react any more than that.

Pitch stood up and walked to the other end of the room, knowing he couldn't do anything was killing him! He couldn't shake her awake, and shouting would only damage her eardrums.

Pitch paced back and forth along the cave wall, keeping well away from her so that if she did wake up, he wouldn't be in the line of her fire if she shot anything nasty using her powers. As he paced he wondered what was wrong with her.

"She's not violent, that's a good sign. But why are her eyes closed?" he asked himself. "And why did she say-"

But before he could finish his thought, Anna sat bolt upright and screamed.

"PITCH WE'VE GOT TO RUN!" she stared around the room, her eyes were wide and Pitch could see a glimmer of fear in them.

"Anna, Anna," Pitch said, striding over to her and trying to take her hand but going through her _once again!_

"Damn! Anna, you've got to calm down." he told her. "You were-"

"I was in a freaking trance is what I was in!" the girl said angrily, glaring up at the ceiling for some reason. "YOU HAD NO REASON TO DO THAT!"

Pitch was startled and he leaped away, stumbling backwards until he felt solid rock behind him. "I didn't do anything!" he protested.

"Oh, not you." she said absentmindedly, then she glared up again. "The bloody freaking REAPER!" She hurled the last word at the sky so loudly that Pitch was sure he saw some pebbles detach from the ceiling and come down.

Pitch blinked. "The Reaper? As in the Grimm Reaper?"

"Yeah, that-" and Anna proceeded to describe the Grim Reaper in _very _colorful words that Pitch was sure a twelve-year-old shouldn't know.

"Um, Okaaaay." Pitch said when she was finished ranting. "Why do you dislike the Grim Reaper now?"

"He freaking hijacked my body and took me to some weird place where they were watching my death on a blue ball, then a Leprechaun got into an argument with the Tooth fairy and Father Time and a Skeleton tried to intervene but he didn't do much. Then a giant spider with a woman's face and fangs said she'd send her kids after you and then I ended up back her. How, I have no clue."

Now, to a normal person, this might sound like the person speaking might need to check into a clinic and seek professional treatment.

But, then again, Pitch was not a normal person. Not even remotely. He understood the things Anna was saying fully. He just couldn't make sense of why the Grimm Reaper would do such a thing.

"So, Grimm took your soul on a ride and sent you to Santoff Clausen," he said slowly, translating her words into something he could fully understand. "Where I assume Thyme called a spirit-meeting, they watched your death and then Patrica got in a fight with Toothiana and Thyme. About what?"

Anna shrugged. "Something about my death. She was convinced that you'd killed me on purpose and the Tooth fairy and Father Time were trying to tell her that you didn't."

"Huh." Pitch said. "And then. . . you said a _skeleton _intervened?"

"Yeah." Anna said. "I thought he was a bit scary."

"A bit scary huh? Must be Skellington." Pitch murmured. When he caught Anna's confused eye he said, "Jack Skellington."

Anna's eyes lit up. "OH! You mean from _A Nightmare Before Christmas_? I _LOVE_ THAT MOVIE!"

Pitch groaned. "Yes, _everyone_ loves that movie."

"What? you don't like it?"

"Do I like the fact that I'm being portrayed as a sack of bugs who _gambles?_ No, I do not."

"Oh, that's right. Oogie Boogie." Anna said, then she sniggered. "He he. I can just imagine you dancing around your cave singing the Oogie Boogie song. He he."

Pitch growled. "How you go from 'rocking back and forth while having a vision' to 'annoying me' so fast is beyond me." he grumbled. "Now, what else did you hear?"

Anna shrugged. "Well, there was the spider woman-" she froze, staring at him with wide eyes again. Wide, and fearful eyes.

"Oh god Pitch, we need to get out of here!" she said jumping up and running over to him. She tried to grab his hands in hers but they went right through!

Pitch blinked. "Get out of here? Why?" he asked, perplexed.

"They're coming!" she said anxiously, trying to grab onto his hands again. "And- why- can't- I- touch- you?!"

Pitch laughed. "Welcome to my world. You're a ghost, Anna. You can't touch anyone or anything."

Her eyes widened. "WHAT?!" she screeched. "You mean I can't eat or drink? Can I sleep? Can I-"

"Calm down!" Pitch said quickly. "Eating is something the living do, not ghosts. Drinking is the same. Sleeping. . ." he paused. "I'm not so sure that you'll need to. But honestly, it's worth it for you to exchange trivial human necessities for moving objects with your mind, phasing through walls and _flying!"_

Anna blinked. "Oh, yeah. Right." then she remembered something and began to panic again. "We've got to get out of here! The spiders are coming!"

Again, Pitch was perplexed. "What spiders?"

"THE SPIDERS!" she said exasperatedly. "The daughters and sons of that freaky woman with the fangs! We've got to get out of here before-"

Pitch held up a hand to stop her. "Slow down!" he ordered. "Firstly, what _freaky woman with fangs_? You'd be surprised but I know several."

Anna sighed. "She was big and she had the head of a woman but the body of a spider! She had black hair, and FANGS!"

Pitch blinked. "Okaaay, I think I know who you're talking about. Arachne, Goddess of spiders."

Anna blinked. "Goddess? Oh great, now there's a _goddess_ after you!"

"How do you know she's after-" Pitch began, then Anna gave him a sarcastic look and he stopped. "Alright, I get your point." he conceded.

"Yeah, she's after you alright." Anna said. "And we've got to get the heck out of here before she comes! I dunno about you, but I _really_ don't want to deal with any more spiders." that last sentence had a bit of a steely tone to it and Pitch was momentarily confused before he remembered.

Pitch winced. Of course. That nightmare he'd sent her before she'd died.

"Oh, yeah I'm sorry about that." Pitch said sincerely. "I only-"

"No time for that!" Anna said. "We gotta go!"

Pitch sighed. "Listen, Anna. Arachne is just a giant bug with a serious dental problem. There isn't much she can do to me."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Pitch, it's not about _her_ hurting _you._ It's about her daughters and sons chasing you down and hog-tying you with spider-silk, then taking you to the Guardians to kill you!"

Pitch winced again. Like he needed to reminded of _that. _"Anna, don't be dramatic." he said, trying to sound weary but coming off more like apprehensive. "They won't-"

"Pitch Black if you even _try_ to lie to me I will _pound_ you, be _damn_ my lack of solidity!"

Pitch raised an eyebrow. "Now where does a child learn language like that?" he asked mildly.

"I WAS ABOUT TO TURN THIRTEEN TOMORROW!" Anna bellowed.

Ah. A child on the cusp of teenager-hood. That explained a few things. Pitch surveyed the girl, looking her up and down. He'd thought she was younger. Her hair was long and, now that he looked at her face more closely, he could see one or two pale bumps on her face that looked like zits.

"Quit looking at me like that!" Anna ordered. "It's creepy."

"I was just-"

"Never mind!" Anna interrupted. "Just forget it! We need to get out of here!"

Pitch sighed. "Not that again," he moaned. "Anna, I have absolutely no concerns about-"

Before Pitch could finish- and he was getting really annoyed about being interrupted so much, there was a strange noise coming from the entrance of the room.

Pitch and Anna both raised their heads to listen, each keeping completely silent. The noise sounded far away, but it carried far. It was like the _tap tap tapp_ing of tiny feet. There was another sound amongst the tapping. Sort of like a whispering, but louder.

_Heshhhhhhhh heshhhhhhhh heshhhhhhhhhh_

_"What is that?" _Anna asked in a whisper, cocking her head to the side.

"I have no-"

And then it happened.

A huge wave of... _things _erupted from the bedroom doorway. The wave was making the same_ heshhhhhh heshhhhhh heshhhhhhhh_ sounds and the tapping was growing louder and louder.

"THEY'RE HERE!" Anna screamed. "Pitch, get out of here!"

"It's just a few bugs," Pitch said, trying to reassure both her and himself.

"GET OUT OF HERE!"

Pitch's eyes were drawn to the scuttling mass and he realized she was right! The creatures were spiders, and the _heshhhhhhing_ and tapping sounds were the noises of their hissing and scuttling! Pitch felt his face pale. Spiders were one of the most feared beings on the face of the planet and they used to be such kind little critters to him. Now, he just felt revolted at the sight of them.

"There's nothing-" he began.

Before he could finish- (and this was the seventh time he'd been disallowed to finish his sentence,) a huge spider lunged at him and Pitch felt fangs sink through the fabric of his pants and down to his skin. The fangs bit down, had, pinching the flesh and sending a jolt of pain up his leg.

"Hey!" he said, shaking the spider off his pant leg. "What-"

"I _told _you!" Anna crowned, dodging a flying spider. "They can bite you! And if they bite you, they'll paralyze you! Then they'll wrap you up like a dead bug and take you to the north pole or wherever! You need to get out of here!"

Pitch watched as the hoard of spiders scuttled towards him. They were almost at his feet! He stepped back, a little worried now. "OK, OK, I get your point." he said, disappearing into a near shadow and reappearing on the other side of the room. He watched in astonishment as the wave- which was quickly turning into a tsunami, of spiders scuttled towards his room. There were thousands of them!

"Anna!" he called, hoping that the spiders weren't attracted to sounds. "Anna, you can phase through the walls to get to me! You don't have to go through the spiders."

Anna tried to call back, but the overwhelming tsunami of spiders drowned out anything she was trying to say. He saw her foot sticking out of the wall, then it was pulled back in through the wall. Then another body part- her head this time, poked through the wall. He could only see up to her nose. Her mouth was still in the rock.

"'Itch! Get 'e ou' a 'ere!" she said, her nose and eyes working furiously.

Pitch walked forward and scrutinized her upper head. "I'm sorry, Anna, but I can't do anything. I can't touch you."

The spiders were a heaving mass and they were still heading towards his room. it was like a flowing river of hairy bodies, scuttling right in front of them. They didn't notice him and he stood about a foot from the nearest spider which quickly scuttled off towards his room. Pitch followed the wave of spiders with his eyes and he discovered they were coming from a giant spider-web in the middle of his living room. They were being spewed out of the web- which was obviously a kind of portal. He tried to look past the solid wave of spiders to see where they were coming from, but he couldn't see a thing.

"'en GET OUT! 'ave youself and 'et me deal with this!"

Pitch shook his head, tearing himself away from the river of spiders. "I can't do that." he said flatly. "You're my friend."

Anna's eyes widened. "F- friend?" she said, her head freezing in it's attempt to push through the wall.

Pitch sighed mightily. "Yeah, I guess I might as well accept it. I'm stuck with you, so I might as well make the most of it."

Anna raised her eyebrows. "Meaning?"

Pitch sighed. "Meaning I'm not going to leave you in the lurch." he said.

"_But you're not doing anything useful_!" Anna yelled angrily, her head thrusting out all the way to her upper lip. "And if you get paralyzed and carted off, there's nothing I can do about it!"

Pitch rolled his eyes. "Anna, you can do something about this!" he said. "Just take a deep breath and focus your energy. You can pass through the wall just like passing through water."

"Oh, and you know so much about phasing," Anna snorted.

"Actually, I do." he replied flatly. "I've been teleporting, phasing through solid walls and such things for several hundred years. Now I'd even say I'm an old hand at it."

Anna scowled. It made sense. "Then kindly give me a hand out of here!"

"Sorry deary. Remember, I can't touch you." Pitch said, giving a wink. "What I _can _do is coax you out. Coach you. It'll only take-"

Pitch was interrupted -ONCE AGAIN!- by the noises of the scuttling spiders. This time, they weren't scuttling past him. They were scuttling _towards_ him!

Pitch cursed. How was he supposed to wriggle out of _this _one? There were only a few options he knew he could take. One: Take a shadow-portal and hope that Anna would somehow find him. Two: Stay and fight. Three: Figure out a way to get her out of the rock and then fight his way out with her. None of those seemed particularly sensible. He needed to get out of here and even though he was a little annoyed by her he wasn't going to leave Anna behind, so that only left one option.

"OK, change of plans." Pitch said, quickly crossing over the wall and phasing through it until he could see all of Anna's face. Her eyes were wide with fear and he felt a pang of regret in his stomach. He could feel himself feeding off of her fear and it sickened him. "I'm going to have to cheat a little. Hold you're breath!"

Then he remembered ghosts didn't breath and he felt silly.

"Pitch, what do you-"

"Keep your mouth shut if you know what's good for you!" he ordered, summoning a strong tendril of Nightmare sand and causing the sand to wrap itself loosely around his left wrist.

Anna's eyes widened as the tendril snaked through around the rock and through the doorway to his room and towards her flailing arm that was still sticking out of the wall on the other side.

"Anna, stop struggling! It'll only make this harder!" Pitch commanded.

"What are you doing?!"

"Saving us!" he shouted, then the tendril of nightmare sand finally wormed it's way around her flailing wrist, connecting them by a strong length of sand.

The sand tightened around her wrist and she stared through the wall in wonder at it. It was touching her! The sand was holding fast to her skin!

"Now hold still and close your mouth!" Pitch ordered, calling up another wave of shadows to engulf the spiders. The inside of the rock- which was already black, became even blacker and she could only see two single solitary globes of golden light. The lights dissapeared for one moment, then they reappeared and Anna realized, with a start, that they were the eyes of the Boogeyman!

_"Pitch,"_ she tried to say, but her voice was dead-silent.

"Keep quiet." A voice from right beside her said. It was Pitch's voice and she tried to turn around, but he wasn't there. She turned back and saw that the eyes had disappeared. "It's hard enough aiming myself without you trying to talk and messing up my concentration!"

Anna kept her mouth shut but inside she wondered what the heck was going on? Where was she? The darkness around her was blacker than the night of the new moon and she felt scared. Where was she? Where was Pitch? Anna reached for something to hold onto to anchor her, but she could feel nothing. It was like she was floating in a no-gravity chamber! There was no floor beneath her and she kicked out with her leg, waving it up and down. nothing stopped her.

Anna raised her left hand and tried to look at it, but the blackness was too complete and she couldn't even make out where her hand was. She lowered it, then raised her right hand- which she'd been propping herself up with, even though she didn't need to, and was amazed when she didn't fall backwards. She just stayed there, with her leg hanging limply as if over a rock or cliff and her hands raided. She looked like she was doing a sit-up with one leg slack.

"This feels really, _really_-"

"I'm trying to concentrate!" Pitch's voice boomed in her ear, making her wince. "So please zip it and stop moving!" He paused and Anna stayed perfectly still. "Unless you want to arrive without a nose or head, that is." he added slyly.

"Ha ha."

"I'm serious!" Pitch said. "You keep distracting me and you might not all come together."

Before Anna could form a plausible comeback, however, the black world around her began to fall apart. She tried to scramble away, but the air went right through her fingers and she couldn't push herself up or back. In the end, after three failed attempts to get away from the blackness dripping down the walls to her, she just sat there and watched.

Anna watched in amazement as the farthest edges of her sight began to drip down through the blackness, like water droplets or paint. The droplets were small, but they collected and ran together to form bigger droplets and, like an eraser fixing a misspelled word, the blackness was scraped away. Beneath the blackness were grey shapes that slowly came into focus as the blackness ebbed away fro her sight. Houses, towers, buildings, even a large cathedral in the distance. She blinked. Some of these buildings looked familiar, but they were still too fuzzy to be recognizable.

"Where are we?" she asked, assuming that it was safe for them to talk now that they weren't in whatever freaky black place Pitch had transported them to.

"Paris." Pitch said from right behind her. "Now, if you wouldn't mind getting off me, _if you please_,"

Anna looked down and saw, to her astonishment, that her butt was firmly planted in the center of his chest. She was on her bottom with her hands bracing firmly against the pavement. Her feet were buried in his lower regions and she was glad her hands weren't in his face, literally.

She tried to scramble back up but her hand slipped and she fell down again, smacking her head against the concrete with a sickening _*splat* _instead of the crack she'd anticipated.

"Need I remind you that you're still a ghost?" Pitch said peevishly. "Yes, you can walk on solid ground and sometimes even go into buildings without falling through the floor, but if you hit the street hard enough you _will_ go through."

"Duly noted." Anna said. She could feel her head sinking through the concrete as they spoke. it sent a chilling feeling through her body. "So what do I do?"

Pitch debated about this for a minute, then decided to get up, passing right through her as he did so. He looked down at her and she had the very vivid image of a golden-eyes hawk ready to swoop down on prey. She was scared.

Pitch blinked. He could feel the fear coming off of her again, not about the spiders or even about being dead and sucked through the ground. She was afraid of _him, _of all things!

_Why?_ Pitch wondered. Then he realized how it must be from Anna's perspective. She was on the ground with no way to help herself or save herself, should he choose to leave her- which he wouldn't do in any case. Not that he was growing _attached_ to the girl. He'd only just met her after all, but he didn't want to take the chance that she would figure out a way to come back on her own and haunt him for not helping her when she was in trouble. Besides, he reflected. he owed her for warning him about the spiders.

"Anna," Pitch said, trying to sound as gentle as he could. "I'm not going to leave you. Just relax, take a deep breath, and push yourself upwards. Not physically though." he said hastily as Anna's arms flailed. "Don't even move your body!"

Anna obeyed and laid her arms down again.

"No, you must use your mind to get you out of this one." Pitch said. "This was what I was trying to teach you before those loathsome spiders found us." He paused, then sank through the concrete. Anna blinked, surprised. Then she feared for one single instant that he might've really left her. Left her all alone. . .

"I haven't left." Pitch said, appearing again. "I'm just showing you how easy it is."

"Yeah well I'm a newbie at this!" Anna snapped. "Can't you do something?"

Pitch sighed. "Alright." he said, holding up his left wrist so that Anna could see it. "Seeing as how I already used this trick and it didn't do anything too damaging, I should be able to do it again."

Anna frowned. "What-"

But the words were forced back down her throat as Pitch gave a sharp yank on his wrist and Anna felt herself being tugged from the concrete's solid grasp. Gravity propelled her towards Pitch and she tried to slow herself down to stop from crashing into him, but the Boogeyman neatly side-stepped the ghost and she went pinwheeling. Until Pitch yanked on the Nightmare sand chain around her wrist to keep her from smacking into a wall.

"Pitch!" Anna yelled angrily. "What did you do?"

"I saved you from an eternity of sitting in concrete for the rest of your afterlife." he said smugly."You're welcome."

"Thanks a heap," Anna said, leaning against a wall to stop herself from teetering and then eventually falling on the ground. Unfortunately, she forgot she was a ghost yet again.

"Anna," Pitch said tiredly, bowing his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. Anna's right arm and the right side of her head was impaled in the wooden wall. "You obviously haven't learned a thing."

"I just forgot, OK!" Anna said angrily. "I didn't realize being dead had so many drawbacks."

"Drawbacks?" Pitch repeated, raising his head to stare at her intently. "Anna, you haven't even _begun_ to discover all your powers yet and it will take you decades to master them all."

"Decades?" Anna gasped, staring at him.

"Yes indeed." Pitch said. "Centuries even. There are some ghosts who have been dead for two thousand years and more and they _still_ can't do the basic levitation."

Anna gaped.

"But more of that another time. What I'm saying is, you shouldn't expect perfect results right out of the gate, and neither should I. I apologize for forcing you to try and get yourself out of the concrete." he paused, moving the word _'apologize'_ around on his tongue. "I should've remembered you're just a young ghost. Not even a day old."

Anna would've blushed, had she not been dead and her veins unable to send blood through to the muscles in her cheeks. "Th- thank you Pitch."

"Here," he said, pulling her out of the wall with a gentle tug of his wrist.

Anna smiled gratefully and brushed her white dress off. "Again, thank you." then she noticed the Nightmare sand ring around each of their wrists. "What's this?" she asked, shaking her wrist. "A friendship bracelet?"

Pitch snorted. "No, Anna. This is not a _friendship bracelet._" he said, disgust audible in his voice. "This is a sand-chain."

"And it's purpose. . .?" Anna asked quizzically.

"To keep you from falling through walls." Pitch replied. "Go on, go through the wall again and see what happens."

Anna obliged, stepping through the wall to her left- the exact same one she'd previously stepped through, and was pulled back by a yank on Pitch's chain. The invisible cord that connected the two rings pulled her out and she stumbled back, pinwheeling for balance once again.

Once she got her balance she shot the ring on Pitch's wrist a withering look. "So things thing is like a leash?" she said, obviously disliking the set-up. "And I'm the dog, on the leash?"

Pitch shook his head. "No, you're more like the energetic toddler in the swimming pool who likes to jump in an inner-tube and float away. The chain is the strong piece of rope to keep you from floating away that is tied from the toddler's inner-tube to the mother's hand or in this case, mine." he didn't look all too enthusiastic either.

"Great. You just lowered my status from Dog to Toddler."

"This is just a precaution." Pitch said. "If you get into trouble or get stuck in a wall, I can yank you out." he illustrated by yanking on the invisible chain once more.

Anna felt herself get yanked towards him and she pulled against the bonds in the other direction. "I guess it doesn't work both ways?" she asked.

"Nope." Pitch said smugly. "This way I can always keep an eye on you."

Anna rolled her eyes. "OK, _dad._"

Pitch visibly winced. "I'm trying to help you!" he said peevishly, turning away. "You came to me, _remember?_ If you don't want me to help you master the powers of your afterlife, then I will snap my fingers and you'll be free to float into as many walls as you like!"

Anna rolled her eyes. "You are such a drama-queen." she muttered.

Pitch froze, then he slowly turned around to face her. "Excuse me?"

"You're excused." Anna said without batting an eyelid.

Pitch ground his sharp teeth.

"Oh, and in case you were wondering if I stuttered, I didn't. You. . . are. . . a. . . drama queen." Anna said slowly and clearly.

Pitch was surprised, although he didn't show it. Anna obviously wasn't afraid of him any more, or else she wouldn't be insulting him. Still, he didn't have any comeback for that one.

Anna smirked. "Obviously you don't have a comeback, so I'm going to continue. You _are_ a drama queen and nothing that you say will change that. Not only are you a drama queen, but you're a stubborn and- if I may be frank,"

"Oh yes, feel free to put aside your usual tact." Pitch drawled.

"I will. You're also a bit of a Nightmare's ass."

Again, Pitch had no comment.

"And you're over-protective, and pushy,"

Pitch frowned. "_Over-protective?_"

Anna smiled. "And worse of all. . ."

Pitch inwardly groaned. _Here we go._

"Worse of all. . . you saved my life."

Pitch blinked. The silence was deafening. "Saved your-" he repeated.

"Yes, you saved my life," she said, smiling warmly at him. "despite my already being dead, so I guess you saved my afterlife."

Pitch was completely stunned. Not only was she managing to insult him once again and complimenting him at the same time. . . but he wasn't sure how to respond. Pitch Black had never ever gotten a compliment in his life and it was kind of surprising that he was getting one now.

"Keep your mouth open like that and you'll soon be housing doves." Anna said, smirking.

Pitch closed his mouth with a *_snap*_ and continued to stare at her blankly.

"Aaaaaaand now you're in shock. Great. Fantastic."

Pitch snapped himself out of it and stood silently with his hands clasped behind his back, trying to figure out what he was supposed to say.

Anna evidently was very good at reading expressions because she said, "You don't have to say anything. I understand, Pitch. I really do. And I'm incredibly grateful that you've decided to let me tag along. It's probably going to save your life."

Pitch was still staring at her. On the outside he was completely frozen. On the inside, however, his mind was reeling.

Why was she being so. . . he didn't know the word for it really. She was teasing him, but she wasn't being mean about it, and she was thanking him for helping her and letting her tag along, even though he killed her. And then, when he was trying to help her, she was afraid of him! This girl's mind was completely boggling.

"Anna," he said after a long long while of silence.

"Oh good, so you can speak and what I said hasn't made you swallow your tongue." Anna said snarkily.

Pitch allowed a wry smile to crease his lips. "Yes, I am still capable of human speech Anna."

"Good. Because there is something I should mention and even though you don't need to speak to understand it, it would be a bonus."

Pitch frowned. "What?"

"There's another giant wave of spiders after us."

Pitch whirled around and, sure enough, he saw a giant river of arachnids scuttling, jumping and hissing straight towards him.

"Oh darkness," Pitch said.

"You might wanna use one of those nifty little shadow-portals right about now." Anna suggested mildly.

Pitch snapped is fingers and a patch of darkness made by an overhanging cloth roof of a sidewalk cafe grew larger and larger.

"Some on!" Pitch said, heading towards the portal and in three swift strides he was there, jumping through it.

The sand-chain around her wrist tugged and Anna felt herself being dragged along after the Nightmare King.

"Hurry!" Pitch's voice said from the shadows.

"I'm coming!" Anna shot back and broke into a short run. She was at the shadow-portal and she tentatively stuck her foot inside, then she looked back.

THE SPIDERS WERE GAINING ON THEM!

Suddenly a hand shot out of the portal. A thin grey hand clasped around the ring of sand at her wrist and yanked her through.

"PIIIIIIIIITCH!" Anna yelled as she was pulled through.

Pitch's only reply was, "Next stop, Barcelona!"

XXXXXXXXXXX

And that was what had happened for the next twelve hours. Them jumping from city to city, only to be caught by a river of very angry spiders. Then went to Barcelona, Spain; Munch, Germany; Amritsar, India; several states in the US and even Greenland for a few seconds, but the spiders were there too. Big, hulking wolf-spiders with shaggy coats thick enough to warm a small child.

Finally they ended up in New York City, Chinatown; the spiders there were relentless. They chased them down alley and up man-made hills. They could never stop to breath- not that either of them needed it, and they couldn't rest. Pitch actually needed rest. More than that. His powers were draining and he needed fear to keep himself alive. Honest, real fear.

Of course there was plenty coming off of Anna, but he didn't tap into that. That would be like a slap in the face to her and would completely betray her trust in him.

Pitch ran and ran. Anna kept up and the ring around her wrist helped mightily, keeping her at least a feet behind him at all times.

"Pitch you gotta go faster! They're right behind us!"

Pitch saw the spiders behind them and saw Anna start to lag behind. She was either growing weak, or the ring was.

"ANNA!"

Anna looked up. She was at least twenty feet away!

"PIIIITCH!" she yelled."GOOOO!"

"NO!" he called. "I WON'T LEAVE!"

_I won't leave **you,** _he thought.

"PITCH! GET OUT OF HERE!"

Pitch's mind was racing. She was afraid he'd leave her, but she wanted him to go? Was she telling him to save himself?

"PIIIIIIIITCH!" she yelled one last time. The spiders were getting too close to him. She wasn't going to make it! "Pitch NOOOOOOOOOO!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Hiya Ladies and germs, I hope you liked the last chapter. It was a lot of work and, despite how long it took to write, it was worth it.**

**I'd also like to thank Obi for her continual support and helpful questions.**

**I know, short A/N.**

* * *

The first thing Jack heard was a low murmur of voices. They wormed their way inside his head and circled around his mind, saying things that made no sense and things that made perfect sense, all at the same time.

"_When?_"  
"_Not long._"  
"_We can't just-_"

_Go away!_ Jack screamed to the voices inside his head. They just would not go away!

He'd been listening to them for what seemed like hours. He was warm, and he was tired, and all he wanted to do was get a few months rest! Why couldn't the voices shut up for one _minute_?!

"-Jack Frost."

Jack groaned softly when he heard his name. Great. He rolled over to the left, trying to block the noises out, but it didn't do much.

"Shut it, will you?" said a sharp but quiet voice with a deep strange accent. "Can't you see you're bugging the poor kid?"

_You certainly are! _Jack thought angrily, rolling farther away. That was something else that was strange, the branch that he'd been sleeping on was unusually flat and wide, more like a bed than a branch. That brought his mind to another question: Why were the voices, if there were any voices, why were they sounding like they were a few feet away from him? He was sleeping on a branch, but they sounded like they were on his level, about a dozen feet away.

_Huh. Weird._ Jack tried to dismiss the strange thought for now, focusing on going back to sleep instead.

Unfortunately, the voices didn't have the same plan.

"_Anything new yet?_"_  
_"_No. They are still-_"  
"_We don't have time for this!_"

"_Shut up!_" Jack moaned, rolling over to the other side and burying his head under what he assumed was a pile of snow that had collected on his branch. It was light and soft, but it wasn't cold. Then Jack remembered he didn't feel the cold, and he resumed his partial sleep. For about a second.

"Jack? Jack, are you awake?"

Jack didn't answer. He didn't care if it was the president of the US, the Maharaja, or the Pope himself! He was... not... getting... up!

"Jack, if you're awake, speak to me mate. We need'ja here!"

Jack moaned again and buried his head further under the snow. "Bug off!" he murmured, lifting his hand momentarily to send a huge pile of snow down on the voices. Now, if he'd thought that one through for even a minute, then he wouldn't be hanging upside down by his ankles by a tall _thing_ in a black cloak with a scythe and huge raven wings in the next.

"See Aster? I told you I'd get him up." the creepy dark-cloaked _thing _said in a deep, accented voice. Probably Jamaican.

"Grim! Put 'im down!" Bunny yelled, unsheathing his boomerangs and waving them threateningly at the creepy hooded _thing_.

Jack felt himself being yanked off of his branch. He opened his eyes wide, just in time to catch his world turning upside down. It made him feel sick. The blood was rushing through his head as he hung upside down and the lack of cold in the room wasn't helping much. All traces of sleepiness had been flushed from his mind. Being hung upside down can do that to a person.

Jack hung there, too surprised to move or even speak, for at least a minute while Bunny tried to reason with the creepy cloaked thing. After that minute, when Jack finally got control of his functions, he thought about what to say. It might've been the blood rushing to his head, or it might just've been the situation. Well, whatever it was, Jack said the first thing that came to mind:

"Yeah Grim, put 'im down!" Jack said, goofily trying to imitate Bunny's accent. He was a complete idiot sometimes.

"Your wish is my command," the tall dark thing said and before Jack could say, "You're a Genii?" he dropped the winter spirit on his head.

"Ow!" Jack said, sitting up and rubbing his head. Being dropped onto stone head-first really _did_ hurt.

"Jack! Grim, I thought we agreed-!" Bunny said, rushing to the winter spirit's side and helping him up quickly.

"Yes yes, we're all here under flag of truce, or whatever." the tall dark thing, now known as Grim, said. Jack looked up at the towering figure and tried to see inside his hood, but it was too dark. All he could see were two faint red lights, deep within the cloak.

As Jack stood up, he tried to get things straight in his mind: One minute he'd been asleep on his branch, the next he'd been strung upside down and dropped on his head. No doubt this would provide Bunny with numerous jokes in the near future, but right now he had other things to worry about. Like why he was here and who the heck were all these people?

His head really hurt, and he could feel several sets of eyes trained on him. It made him feel uncomfortable. He could feel bunny's strong arms holding him upright and he could sense the weakness in his own legs.

"Bunny, I'm fine," Jack said, falling back on his bed with a thud the second Bunny let go of him. So it had been a bed, not a branch. And the stuff he'd previously thought was snow was probably the shredded pillow and feathers that littered the top part of his bed. Huh. No wonder they weren't cold. Then again, he probably wouldn't have felt them anyway.

"Jack, do you remember?" Bunny said carefully, sitting down on Jack's bed beside him gently and taking the teen's hands in his own furry paws.

"Remember?" Jack said, frowning. Then in a flash, it all came back to him. A huge golden eye. Feathers. A girl that looked like a ghost. Flying. They'd taken him to the North Pole. Why? He'd been so comfortable on his branch.

The pain.

Now he remembered. The excruciating pain. That was the reason they'd brought him to North's workshop. But, where was North?

For that matter, where were Tooth and Sandy?

Jack raised his head and looked around the room. He couldn't see them. Just the big guy in the cloak, Bunny, and a few other people he might recognized, once his world stopped spinning.

"I remember," Jack said, nodding carefully. Of course, that just sent his world spinning again and he moaned in pain.

"Jack? You OK, mate?" Bunny asked, patting the teen gently on the shoulder.

Jack chuckled and decided to reply in his natural way. Snarkily. He looked up into Bunny's wide, green eyes, moving his head slowly so that it wouldn't disturb his pounding migraine.

"Don't look at me like that, Kangaroo." Jack teased. "Someone might get the impression you care!"

Bunny's eyes shrunk back to their normal size and he glowered. "Yeah, you're fine." he decided, standing up and moving a few steps backward from the bed. Jack cracked a grin. What did Bunny expect? That he'd break down crying because of a rare moment of compassion shown to him by the Easter Kangaroo? NAH!

"Well, I would be, if my head would just come out of warp drive for a minute!" Jack said crossly, rubbing his temples. "Honestly, I didn't know spirits got headaches."

Bunny smirked. "What do you think you are to me, Frosty? A headache, a thorn in my side, a pain in my-"

"Oh shut it Kangaroo." Jack said, tapping the ground with his foot. Instantly the ground where Bunny was standing became slick with ice and Bunny had to grab onto something to stop himself from falling. Unfortunately, that something was the tall creepy guy's cloak.

"Aster, let go of me." the tall creepy guy with no face said coldly.

Bunny looked and saw that he was clutching the cloak like a frightened child and hastily let go, brushing invisible dust off himself and looking anywhere but at the tall creepy guy.

"OK, now that I've fulfilled my quota for teasing Bunny for the hour, " Jack said looking around slowly. "You guys wanna tell me why I'm here?"

He caught site of two figures behind the tall guy and he craned his neck to try and see who it was, but the tall guy's _wings?! _blocked them.

"You are here because we have need of you, Jack Frost" the tall creepy dude known to us as Grim, said, stepping forward.

Jack's eyes blurred as he tried to focus on Grim's hood. It was black, and deep and_ gaping._ Think the longest well on earth, plus the longest cave on earth. It was like falling into a void. The hood was huge and made of black material that seemed to repel what light there was in this tiny cramped room. Jack tried to see a face, but there was nothing. Although he could just barely make out a pair of red glowing lights, deep within the hood. Eyes?

Then Jack realized Grim was talking and he snapped out of his transfixed state.

"-there is not much time left."

"Huh? I'm sorry, what?"

Jack could feel the glowing lights focus on him and he could practically hear the contempt in his voice, which was deep and rhythmical, like a drum beat, and with his thick Jamaican accent, it nearly made Jack quake with fear. This guy made Pitch seem like a rank amateur!

"You have a short attention span, young Guardian, so I will try to say this as quickly as I can: Something has happened and we have called all the spirits of this world and a few others, to figure out what's going on. The situation is being contained, but we need the rest of the Guardians awake and well, including you." the eyes in Grim's hood glowed and Jack had the distinct impression that he was glowering at him.

"So what do you need me for?"

Grim let out a low breath that sounded like moaning. "You are the Guardian who has had the most experience with Pitch Black." he said slowly. "And our situation is centered around that second-rate fear-spirit."

Jack furrowed his eyebrows. "What has Pitch done now?"

"I'm afraid that we can't explain completely until the other Guardians are awake." Grim said.

Jack pouted. "Why not?" he whined.

Bunny whacked Jack on the back of his head. "Jack, the discussion's closed." hesaid.

Jack folded his arms and pouted again. "_Fine_." he mumbled.

Bunny smiled.

"None of the others are awake, actually." Grim said. "Not Toothiana, not Sanderson, nor North-"

He was cut off by Jack, who was giggling to himself. He understood things were bad and serious, but he also knew that people who stayed serious in situations like this were normally sticks in the mud. So Jack decided to try and make light of the situation with the only jokes he had on hand.

"He he. You just rhymed."

Bunny looked from Jack to Grim, then back at Jack. "If he's gone loopy from that drop you gave him," the rabbit warned, "You're gonna have'ta pay for the medical bills to fix his cranium."

Grimm glowered at the boy, then he turned to Bunny. "There should be no permanent damage. I suspect this is just his normal state of being. An obnoxious, loud, arrogant _teenager_."

"And hellion!" Jack said happily, raising his first finger. "Don't forget mischievous hellion!"

Grim turned his hood towards Jack, looked at him for a long time- or at least, that's what Jack assumed, since he couldn't see his face, then he turned to Bunny.

"Point taken." Bunny conceded.

Grim was about to start up again on a doom and gloom path, but Jack had other intentions. He was feeling a bit better after his world had stopped spinning, and he felt almost back to his old self again. And, as Jack would normally, do, he decided to have a little fun.

There were other people in the room. Jack just hadn't noticed them. One of them, whom he recognized immediately, was a tall woman in an elegant green dress that shimmered, even in the lack of light, casting green patterns on the walls, like a pool with the lights on. She had startling bright green eyes, like Bunny, and had numerous tattoos curling up and down her hands and arms

"Mother Earth!" Jack said, jumping up and taking an exaggerated bow. He always did this in his boss's presence, just to annoy her. "Good day to you! How's the goddessing going? You read any good plant magazines?"

Grim stopped in mid-sentence and glowered, or Jack assumed it was a glower, at him.

Bunny was seriously starting to wonder if he should just peg Jack with a dream-sand ball until he calmed down, otherwise he was likely to tick off everyone.

The green woman stepped forward and surveyed the boy. "Frost." Gaia said coolly, inclining her head. She'd always admired the winter spirit for his independence and creativity, at least when he did the frost drawings on the windows. When he messed with spring by sending blizzards, then she didn't want to hear his name for a month afterward!

Jack smiled widely.

"At your service, Madam."

Gaia bit back a laugh. "Since when are you at anyone's service? You are a rogue, Jack. A rogue and a havoc-wreaker and the laziest spirit I've ever encountered!"

Jack's eyes widened. "Really? Why, thank you! That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me!"

Bunny groaned. Sarcasm was lost among most spirits.

"Yes, it probably was."

Although Gaia wasn't one of them.

Jack looked around again, catching sight of another pair of figures behind Gaia.

"Hello?" he said, waving. "Anyone there?"

Grim and Gaia moved to the side and a tall man in glimmering golden robes stepped forward. He had a golden beard and bright blue eyes, brighter even that Jack's! His face was round and pale, and he had a pair of golden-rimmed oval designer glasses perched on his nose.

"Let me guess, Sandy's older brother?" Jack said, smiling.

The man chuckled goodnaturedly and gave a small bow. "Not really. Sanderson is a good friend of mine, though we aren't related. My name is Ferthermore Tyme. You can call me Father Time."

Jack's eyes widened. "_You are _Father Time!" he said, gaping. The man smiled.

"Not what you expected?" he asked, smiling.

Jack shook his head. "No, actually this _was_ what I was expecting. Not the designer glasses, but other than that..."

Father Time chuckled again. "Yes, my eyes have gotten a little dim of late. Believe me, I used to prefer my old pair of half-moon glasses with silver rims, but when I visited people they kept calling me Dumbledore. I hadn't the faintest idea what that was about."

Jack chuckled, having seen those movies on more than one occasion with Jamie. He'd actually seen the last movie in theaters with Jamie and Sophie the day it had come out! Believe it or not, Sophie really liked it and she laughed and clapped throughout the entire thing.

"It's quite understandable." Jack said. "Maybe North can send you those movies next Christmas."

Father Time nodded thoughtfully. "He might. He might."

Jack smiled and looked around the room again. "So, we've got Mother Earth-"

"Gaia!" Gaia snapped.

Jack winked at her. "Father Time, and a tall dude in a creepy black cloak with crow wings." he turned to Bunny with a bright glint in his eyes. "Don't tell me _this_ is the rest of the spirit world."

Bunny winced at the "creepy black cloak" comment and tried to tell Jack to shut his mouth, without actual talking.

The other spirits stood in silence for a moment, then Grim let out a deep rumbling laugh. "Forgive me," he said, stepping towards Jack. "I should have introduced myself by now."

Bunny took a step backward but Jack stayed firmly frozen to the spot, (no pun intended,) staring up into Grim's hood defiantly. He'd taken down a whole army of Nightmares. How bad could one dude in a cloak be?

"I am Thanatos, God of Death. The Grim Reaper and Soul-harvester." Jack felt his blood run cold, (again, no pun intended,) as he watched a huge black scythe form in Grim's right hand and his huge black raven wings unfurl from his back. The cloak rippled around him, moved by an invisible wind.

Jack knew then just how stupid he'd been. He'd ticked off _Death!_ There_ had _to be repercussions for that. He looked into Grim's black hood and gulped. Pitch was nothing, he realized. Nothing to _this! _This was someone who could really instill fear and terror, because he certainly did in Jack!

"Thanatos," Father Time said, putting a pale hand on the God of Death's shoulder. "That's enough. The boy didn't mean any harm by his words."

Thanatos glanced over his shoulder at the man in gold, then he lowered his scythe. "Very well. But be warned, boy." he said, turning back to Jack. "The next time you insult me will be the _last_."

Jack nodded mutely, and with a final nod to Bunnymund Grim departed the room, turning into a flock of black ravens and disappeared through an open window.

Father Time chuckled again. "What a drama queen." then he turned to Bunny. "He'll be back. I'm going downstairs to make sure there aren't any fights breaking out." he turned to Jack and gave him a small wink. "In the mean time, try not to annoy any more spirits. I might not be there the next time."

Jack nodded, still trying to work up how to speak again.

Bunny smiled and bowed slightly. "Alright then. Me and Jack'll be down in a second, once I get some _things_ straight with 'im."

Jack didn't like how that sounded.

"Will you accompany me, Gaia?" Father Time asked, offering his arm to the woman in green.

Gaia glanced at Bunnymund, then nodded. "Yes, _please_. There's absolutely no natural light in here and it's making my leaves mildew." she gestured to the patterns on her arms that Jack had previously thought were tattoos. Now he saw that they were actual leaves, growing on her skin.

"Very well then." Father Time said, and they both disappeared in a flurry of golden sparks and flower petals.

Once he was sure they were gone, Bunny turned to Jack and grabbed his arms tightly. "Are... you.. _insane_ mate?!" he said angrily, breaking Jack out of the transfixed state he'd been in while looking into Grim's hood.

"Bunny, wha-"

"You just insulted _Death_, Jack! It's a bloody big deal!"

Jack winced. "Oh, yeah. I'm sorry about that. I just got kind of-"

"Carried away?" Bunny asked, letting go of his arms and sitting down on Jack's bed with a thump.

Jack nodded, bracing himself for a lecture.

It didn't come.

"It's alright, Jack. I shouldn't have had them in here in the first place." Bunny said, looking down at his feet.

Jack smiled. "Hey, Bunny, it's OK."

Bunny smiled. "Good. Now, before I take ya downstairs, there's a few things we have to go over."

"Yeah," Jack said. "Like where the heck is Tooth and the others?"

"Tooth is in a room downstairs with North. Him and Sandy are still asleep and, between you and me," hesaid, holding up a paw to cover his mouth. "I think that, with anything short of a sonic warhead or a sound grenade, Sandy's gonna stay conked out."

Jack smirked. "Yeah, most likely. So, what was Father Time talking about, other spirits?"

Bunny's eyes widened as he remembered something. "Um. . . Jack? I think you might wanna stay here for a while."

Jack frowned. "Why?"

Bunny coughed. "There are a couple people down there that might not be all that pleased to see you."

Jack smirked. "Meh. Hardly anyone is ever pleased to see me."

Bunny sighed. "That's true," he admitted.

"So who's down there?" Jack asked.

"Oh. . ." Bunny said, trying to play for time. "Just a few people."

Jack cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. "Their names?"

Bunny got fidgety and he looked down at his feet. "Well. . . uh. . ."

Jack sighed. "Jut tell me, rabbit."

Bunny sighed mightily, then he finally raised his head. "Everybody."

Jack blinked. "Everybody?"

"Everybody." the rabbit replied, nodding. "Every single spirit on this earth and several more."

Jack whistled.

"Yeah."

"So. . ." Jack said slowly. "What were those things you wanted to go over with me?" He caught Bunny's eyes and said quickly, "I'm only doing this for diplomatic reasons. We should all respect our fellow spirits."

Bunny snorted.

"Well, except for Death. He's an ass."

Bunny's eyes went wide and, from beneath the bed a deep male voice with a pronounced Jamaican accent said, "I heard that."

XXXXXXXXXX

Twenty minutes later, after Jack had gotten a quick run-down on how not to tick off other spirits and a mighty telling-off for saying that Death was an ass, Jack and Bunny made their way downstairs and Jack saw a small crowd of people milling about the vast workshop.

"Now listen," Bunny warned as they began to move through the smattering of people. "If someone looks at you funny, or does anything to insult you or bug you, just ignore them, alright? There's people in here that are _really_ touchy about everything from their clothes to their claws, so don't make _any_ personal remarks. Got it?"

Jack nodded, taking in the thirty-odd spirits. Oddly enough, they all looked human.

"Uh, Bunny, I don't see any claws." Jack muttered to the fidgety rabbit.

"Don't worry. You will." Bunny muttered back.

Jack shrugged and tried to tune into the conversations going on around him.

"I just want to know where North and Toothiana are," a giant man tanned man with the lower body of a spider said to a tall girl with pink feathered wings.

"Why just North and Toothiana?" the girl asked in a high-pitched squeaky voice.

"I don't much care for the rabbit." the spider replied, "And Sanderson stays out of my way on principle. He dislikes spiders."

"I hope there's food," a short woman in a pair of green pants and a green t-shirt said. She had a shock of orange hair that was pulled up in a ponytail and Jack instantly assumed this was the Leprechaun.

"It's far too cold in here," said a small brown creature that Jack thought was a mole. "I don't know how North stands it!"

"He likes the cold," Rasped a hunched man with greyish skin and pointy ears. Jack looked closer and saw his first set of claws. Gargoyle, he thought.

"When will Father come back?" said a medium-sized woman in a rainbow shimmering dress. "He is the one who called us all here, is he not?"

"Patience Irisssss," said a man who hissed like a snake. "Use your imagination."

This brought out a bout of laughter that Jack did not understand and he turned away to ask Bunny, but before he could a loud voice spoke.

"Aster!" a loud voice boomed behind them. Both Jack and Bunny jumped a good three inches in the air and they spun around, looking for the person who's called Bunny's name.

"Aster, over here!" the voice said again and Jack could see a pale white hand waving at them over the crowd.

Bunny smiled. "Come on, Jack. I think you should meet this guy." he grabbed Jack's staff and pulled him through the crowd until they reached the area where they'd seen the hand.

"Aster, it's been a long time. We didn't get to talk much before," the voice said and Jack turned around to see an incredibly tall, thin man in a black suite and spider tie moving towards them. Actually, incredibly tall was a bit of an understatement. This guy had to be eight feet tall, at least!

"Hello again Jack," Bunny said uneasily as the man came to a stop in front of them.

Jack stared at the man in amazement. This wasn't a man at all! It was a skeleton! A walking, talking skeleton with a skull for a head and bone fingers. His sockets were empty black holes and he had a large grin on his face.

"Good to see you again, Aster!" the skeleton said, bending down to hug the rabbit. Bunny stiffened and awkwardly patted the skeleton's shoulder. "How's the hunt going so far?" the skeleton asked Bunny when he released him. He didn't seem to notice Jack.

"Oh, Arachne's confident." Bunny said. Jack frowned, wondering what the rabbit was talking about. "And if her kids can't find him, then Gaia's ravens are waiting in the wings."

The skeleton laughed. It was a strange sort of laugh. Scary, and happy, all at the same time. "I love spiders. Very useful creatures, though I have a feeling that they won't be able to catch our friend Mr. Black. Pitch has an extraordinary history of sneaking into shadows and disappearing, remember?"

Bunny cracked a forced grin. "I remember." He said.

Something seemed to telepathically pass between the two because the skeleton nodded and an expression that could be described as sadness passed over his face. He raised a long hand and put it on the rabbit's shoulder. "I'm sorry Aster," he said gently. "We'll find him and when we do, we'll straighten out this whole mess."

Bunny bowed is head and- was it Jack's imagination? No, a real tear dripped down his nose. "Where's Sally?" he asked.

The skeleton let go of Bunny's shoulder and said. "Oh she's here somewhere. Sally! Sally?" he said, turning around and peering over the heads of the crowd.

"Jack, I'm right here, dear."

Jack turned around, wondering why everyone kept calling his name, and saw one of the strangest sights he'd ever seen in his three hundred years as a spirit.

It was a young woman, wearing a patchwork orange and black dress that came up to just above her ankles. Her skin was greyish-blue, like faded fabric, and there were strange lines tattooed all over her skin. She had a small mouth and bright eyes, and as she came closer Jack could see the individual tattoos all across her face and arms and hands.

No, not tattoos. _Stitches!_

He gaped as she walked over to the skeleton and he bent down to kiss her. "There you are, Sally dear." the skeleton said. "Aster was wondering where you were."

The woman looked at Bunny and gave a surprised laugh. "Aster! It's good to see you again," she said, reaching out and giving Bunny a hug. Boy these people were feely.

Jack just stood there, leaning on his staff awkwardly. Who were these people? A tall skeleton and a woman that had stitches in her skin like a rag-doll? He'd never heard of these spirits before.

"Yes, we didn't get much of a chance to talk. My dramatic husband." she shot the skeleton a look and two pink circles appeared on the bones of his cheeks.

"Ahem, yes Sally." the skeleton said, looking flustered.

"Yeah Skellington, I've been meaning to apologize about that little spat," Bunny said, surprising both the couple and Jack, who had never heard Bunny apologize to anyone before. "It was over thirty years ago, after all."

The skeleton didn't move for several minutes, then his skull broke into a wide smile.

"Yes Aster, it is time we make up." he said, wrapping his thin arm around the rabbit once more. This time Bunny didn't close his eyes.

"Yeah," he said. "A bunch of little squabbles between the spirits will only make things more difficult to find Pitch."

Jack was confused. Obviously these two used to be enemies and now they were friends, just like that? Seemed more like Bunny just wanted it to be swept under the rug, whatever it was, rather than forgiven.

"Don't I get a make-up hug?" the woman named Sally demanded, but Jack could see a joke twinkling in her felt eye.

"Of course, Sally-girl." Bunny said, letting go of the skeleton and embracing the woman made of cloth.

"Oh Aster," Sally said gently when his furry arms around her shoulders. "I can't imagine how painful it must be for you and the other Guardians. How're you holding up?"

"I'm doing good, Sally-girl." Bunny patted her on the back. "And I've told'ja a million times," he said, releasing her but still holding her at arm's length. "Call me Bunny. I hate me first name."

Sally laughed. "Alright, _Bunny."_ she said, giggling a little bit. Then she caught sight of Jack standing awkwardly behind him and said, "And who's this?"

Bunny turned around and put a furry forearm around Jack's shoulders. "This here," he said, steering jack forward. "Is Jack Frost. Jack, meet the Pumpkin King himself, Jack Skellington." Jack Skellington moved forward and bent down to shake Jack's hand.

"Absolutely delighted!" he said. Jack felt cold bone hands curl around his own and he numbly shook, keeping his eyes down. Otherwise he was sure he'd start to stare at the empty sockets in Jack Skellington's head.

"Yeah. Same." Jack said. Jack Skellington released his hand and smiled warmly down at him. Or, at least, Jack thought it was warmly. The skeleton's features were barely readable.

"And his lovely wife, Sally." Bunny finished, pointing to the rag-doll woman.

"Hello," she said, reaching out and taking Jack's hand. Jack was surprised so much when he took it that he nearly snatched it back. Her hand was made of felt! Cloth! And the stitches were blue string! This woman _was _a rag doll.

Evidently she could tell he was a little confused and curious, because she smiled and let go of his hand. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

Jack felt a small blush creep into his cheeks and Sally laughed again. "It's alright, Jack. Believe me, I've met plenty of spirits who don't want to touch me."

Jack was about to protest, but his reply died in his throat and he just stood there awkwardly.

Bunny laughed. "Yes, Jack. Sally here is made out of cloth and stuffed with leaves." he said. Sally pulled at one of the threads that attached her wrist to her arm and the hand came off! It dropped to the floor and moved towards him, crab-like. Jack stared in wonder at it. This woman could detach her limbs?

"It's pretty strange," Sally admitted. "I was sown together in a lab, and it's true. I am stuffed with leaves." she said, showing Jack her arm. Jack flinched, expecting something nasty, but when he saw that there was nothing but a few oak tree leaves sticking out, he took a step forward and stared in awe.

"Wow. That is so cool!" he said. Then he felt a tapping on his bare foot and looked down to see Sally's fallen hand next to his left foot.

"Oh, do pick that up for me, would you Jack?" Sally asked, gesturing at her hand.

Jack Skellington moved to pick it up and Jack said, "I've got it." he bent down and looked at the hand, then he laid out his own hand flat and the pale blue hand climbed on.

Jack straightened up again and passed the hand to Jack Skellington, who held onto the fingers while Sally reached behind her ear and withdrew a bundle of blue thread and a needle.

In a matter of seconds she was stitched up and Jack was smiling at them. "Wow. That is really cool!" he said again, watching as Sally flexed her hand experimentally.

"It is rather special," Sally said, blushing slightly. "Not as special as Jack's talents, though. Go on, show them dear." she said, patting Jack Skellington's shoulder. It was a miracle she could reach it. Jack Skellington was a giant!

Jack Skellington smiled at his wife and said, "Oh, alright." then he reached up with both hands and pulled off his head!

Jack's jaw dropped as he watched Jack Skellington's head smile at him and say, "Cool huh? Since I am dead, I can take off my head!"

Sally beamed and she whispered something to the detached head.

"Ah, what a good idea, Sally!" Jack's head said, smiling. "You might want to step back a bit," he advised Bunny and Jack.

Jack and Bunny took a few steps back and Jack Skellington cleared his throat. Of what, Jack wasn't sure.

"Watch closely," he said. And Jack began to toss his head back and forth, from bony hand to bony hand. Jack followed the head with his eyes carefully.

After about a minute, Jack Skellington tossed his head to his right hand and kept throwing it up in place, while he reached into his suite and pulled out what Jack assumed was a rib bone.

Then Jack began to juggle them. After a minute, another rib joined in; and a minute later, a leg bone. Soon there was nothing left of Jack Skellington but an empty suite, standing there and his hands, juggling his own bones. Then Jack's head let out a laugh and he threw his bones up into the air. Then, as Jack watched them fall back down, all his bones fell back into the suite perfectly, with Jack's head topping it all off and falling last. Then Jack Skellington gave an elegant bow.

"Wow!" Jack said. His eyes were wide. "That was really cool!"

"Thank you." Jack Skellington said, smiling.

"But how did you keep 'em from falling?" Bunny asked. His eyes were almost as wide as Jack's.

Jack Skellington laughed. "Well, they're a part of me, so I just tell me not to fall!" he said, putting an arm around his wife.

Bunny appraised the two with a wide smile. Obviously whatever had been troubling him had been pushed to the back of his mind for the moment. "So," he said, looking from the rag-doll woman to the skeleton. "You said you two were married. Where'd you go for the Honeymoon?"

Sally raised her right hand and gazed at her ring fondly. "Oh we had a lovely honeymoon in the Black Forest," she said. "We met so many wonderful people, and we even took pictures!" she said, pulling some pieces of paper out of somewhere and passing them to Bunny.

Jack leaned over and saw Jack and Sally, hanging upside down on a tree branch, beside a bunch of dark shape that looked like bats.

"Vampires." Bunny whispered.

Jack's eyes widened. "You know vampires?" he said, staring at Jack and Sally.

Jack Skellington nodded and laughed. "We live in Halloween town, young man. All the most horrible creatures in the world live there." he said, winking at Jack.

Jack's eyes widened another notch. "You mean like Witches? Demons? Werewolves?"

Jack Skellington and Sally nodded. "Yes, that and so much more." Sally said.

Jack's eyes had reached dinner-plate proportions and Jack Skellington laughed. "Aster, I think your young friend is trying to achieve telescopic sight." he commented.

"Ha ha." Jack said.

They stood in silence for a bit, then Jack asked something that had been nagging him for a while now.

"How the heck do you all know each other?" he asked, turning to Jack Skellington.

Jack, Sally and Bunny all laughed. "All spirits know each other, Jack." Sally said.

"But Aster and North and I go way back," Jack Skellington interjected. "I made a slight mistake a few decades ago and that mistake led me to meet Aster and-"

Bunny made a polite cough. "Ahem, Skellington?"

Jack's bone cheeks turned that pinkish shade once more. "Well, _met _is a bit of an exaggeration." he admitted.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Really? What happened?"

"My dear sweet husband," Sally said, putting a delicate but firm hand on said husband's shoulder and squeezing, "Misinterpreted a sign from Manny and kidnapped Aster first, then North. But he let them go," she said quickly, noticing the look of astonishment on Jack's face.

"You _kidnapped_ him?" he said incredulously, staring at Jack Skellington.

Jack Skellington sighed. "Well it wasn't _me, _actually." he said.

"No, it was those three freaky kids." Bunny muttered, looking at his feet. "But we did decide to forgive and forget, so I'm going to do just that. Any new news about-"

"No, no," Jack said quickly. "I wanna hear about this! What three kids?"

"Lock!"

"Stock!"

"Barrel!"

Three voices said from behind them. They all jumped, even Jack and Sally, and turned to face the three Halloween hellions.

Jack stared. They were kids, barely older than Jamie, and they wore really elaborate costumes. A devil, a witch, and a Skeleton. Their faces were too covered with makeup to see what they actually looked like, but he could see they were ugly little shrimps.

"Ah, children," Jack Skellington said, bending down and engulfing them in a hug. "Glad you could come."

Bunny however, squeaked in fright and jumped behind Jack. "Don't let them come near me!" he whimpered. "Please, Jack, keep them away!"

Jack stared at the Bunny over his shoulder and looked back at the kids, who were staring at him. He felt a chill go up his spine, and that wasn't easy to do!

"What's so bad about these three?" he muttered to Bunny over his shoulder.

As if in response the three kids started singing quietly, but just loud enough for Jack to hear them.

_"Kidnap the Bunnymund, lock him in a chest. Bury him for twenty years, 'cause we are the best."_

Jack shuddered. "I take it back. I get it completely."

Lock Stock and Barrel laughed evilly and ran off, still singing. "_Kidnap the Bunnymund, bury him aground. Mr. Oogie Boogieman sure will be so proud!"_

Jack Skellington beamed and Bunny cowered behind Jack until they were swallowed up by the throngs of people.

"Well that was weird," Jack stated, turning back to Bunny. "I take it you all know each other?"

"Oh yes," Bunny said, clasping his paws behind his back. "Those three were the ones who kidnapped me and North, on Skellington's orders. North nearly got turned into mulch by Oogie Boogie!"

Jack frowned. "Wait, Oogie Boogie? Do those creeps work for Pitch too?"

Jack Skellington seemed to take offense at the 'creeps' comment and folded his arms. "Those... _'creeps'_ as you call them, used to work for a highly unlikable person who lived in my town named Oogie Boogie. He's dead now, thank goodness."

"Yes, he tried to kill me and Sandy Cl- I mean North." Sally said, bowing her head slightly. "And those kids used to work for him, it's true."

"But now they're rehabilitated!" Jack Skellington said happily, unfolding his arms and clapping his skeleton hands. "Me and Sal adopted them. They live with us now, in my castle. Much better accommodations than that awful house they used to live in."

Bunny's eyes were popping out of his head. "You _adopted_ them?!" he said incredulously.

"Indeed we did, Aster." Jack Skellington said. "Why? Is it so hard to believe they've gone good?"

Bunny snorted. "Jack, those three are the original _Trick_ or Treaters. They're born to cause havoc and mayhem!"

"They've been rehabilitated!" Jack protested.

"Boys boys," Sally said, putting a cloth hand on each shoulder. The two were glaring down their noses at each other. Jack found it amusing that they were trying to do that because one, Jack Skellington didn't have a nose and two, Bunny' nose was flat and pointy, like a box edge. Good luck looking down _that _at anyone, Jack thought.

"There's no need to pick up right at where we left off after Christmas." Sally said tersely, looking from her husband to the rabbit.

Jack bowed his skull. "You're right. I apologize, Aster. Like you said, start again anew, right?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry Sally-girl." Bunny said, holding out a paw. Skellington shook it and in five minutes they were smiling again. Jack and Sally shared a wink.

"So, Jack," Sally said, trying to steer clear of the kidnapping incident as much as possible. "I hear you're the newest Guardians, is that right?"

Jack felt a light frosting of snow grow on his slightly pink cheeks. "Yeah." he said, looking down.

"Ah!" Jack Skellington said. "Well congratulations my boy! Being a Guardian is a great honor."

Jack blushed a bit harder and the frost became solid, like a mask over his cheeks.

"Will you look at that! You actually got the old snowman blushin'!" Bunny said, laughing and rumpling Jack's hair.

"Oh lay off!" Jack said, pushing the hand away.

"No really," Sally said, smiling. "It's a great honor. What are you the Guardian of?"

"Fun." Jack mumbled.

"Fun? Well, that _is_ interesting." Sally said.

Jack raised his head. "Why?"

"Well, fun interlaces with just about every other job we spirits do," Sally said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Take your holiday, Bunny, for instance. What do the children feel, apart from hope, on Easter day? What do they have the most of?"

Bunny smiled. "Why, fun of course."

"Exactly!" Sally said. "They have _fun_ tromping through fields and forests, searching for beautiful eggs and hidden goodies."

Jack smiled. "That's true," he admitted.

"And on Halloween," Sally continued. "The children have _fun_ being scared by silly costumes and going door to door, asking for sweets."

Jack was beginning to really like Sally.

"And on Christmas, when they unwrap the toys, afterwards they have _fun _playing with them, and on new years they have fun lighting up fireworks and on the fourth of July the same,"

"What about the people who don't have holiday jobs?" Jack asked.

Sally smiled. "That's a very good point, Jack. I imagine that, since they are doing a job that they love, they are always having fun. Haven't you ever heard the phrase, 'if you get a job that you love, you'll never work a day in your life'?"

Jack nodded.

"Well, that's what I mean." Sally said. "You, Toothy and Sandy are all spirits with no holiday, but you do your jobs each time they are needed and you have fun doing them."

Jack nodded again. "That's true!" he said happily.

Sally folded her arms in triumph and Jack Skellington wrapped his other arm around her shoulders. "My wise wife," he said fondly, leaning his head against her cloth neck gently.

Jack looked down, afraid they were going to kiss!

Bunny laughed. "Oi you two, there _is_ a kid present." he said, chucking Jack on the shoulder.

Jack and Sally snapped out of it and both gave sheepish smiles. "He he. Sorry Aster." Jack said, the two pink circles prominent on his cheek bones once again.

"So," Jack said, trying to ease the conversation back onto a track he was familiar with. "What's the big deal about Pitch? Has he killed someone this time?"

The second the words left his lips all three spirits froze, staring at him.

Jack grinned nervously. "What? Did I say something wrong?" he said, looking from the somber cloth-woman to the downcast rabbit, to the impassive skeleton.

They all stayed silent, only giving each other strange looks that conveyed more than Jack understood.

Jack caught Sally giving him a look of pity and his eyes widened. "Oh no," he whispered. "Who was it? Was it Jamie? I swear if that shadow-freak has harmed even one hair on his head, I'm gonna-"

"Jack," Bunny said loudly, cutting through the boy's rantings.

Jack stopped.

"It wasn't Jamie." the rabbit said, all traces of happiness gone from his eyes and face.

"Then who was it? Monty? Cupcake? Pippa?" Jack demanded, naming the kids who had helped them stand up to Pitch a few years ago. "Was it one of the twins?"

"No, none of them." Bunny said. "It looks like just some random girl that none of us know. Baby Tooth has been instructed to find a tooth container to see if any of us recognize her."

Jack let the butt of his staff drop to the floor and he had to lean on the crook to stop himself from falling over. Pitch had killed a child? A little girl? He'd thought the Boogeyman was pretty twisted but he'd never imagined him killing an innocent little girl!

"What happened?" he finally asked Bunny, trying to keep his voice cold. It wasn't hard.

Bunny sighed and said, "Jack, Sally, would you excuse us?"

The two nodded and walked away. Jack could hear Sally's voice fading as they headed out of what they thought was his earshot. "Poor boy. I hope Jack will be alright."

"He'll be fine, Sally." Jack Skellington reassured her. "Bunny will tell him. And now that Arachne's on Pitch's trail there's nowhere he can hide. He'll be found and this whole thing will be resolved."

"Yes, I suppose." Sally said. Then right before they were swallowed up by the chattering crowd she said, "I hope that little girl didn't suffer."

With those words ringing in his ears, Jack Frost turned back towards the rabbit and was astounded to see a real tear rolling off the rabbit's nose.

"Bunny?" Jack asked gently.

"Come with me Jack," Bunny said in a voice so choked with emotion that he could barely understand him. "Back up to your room."

They made it up the long flight of stairs and into Jack's room where they both sat down on the bed.

"Jack," Bunny began after a few minutes silence. "We don't know too many of the specifics. All we know is a child was killed and Pitch was there. Thanatos was there too and he says that Pitch killed the girl, but he didn't mean to. "

Jack was silent.

"That was that awful feeling we all got, the girl dying. We're more closely connected to the children of the world and it affected us more than the others, it seems. They all just got a short nasty twinge and then they were fine, but now we're trying to find Pitch and clear this all up."

Jack was still silent.

"Jack?"

"What do you think?" Jack asked hoarsely. "Do you think he killed her?"

Bunny bowed his head. "I have no idea." he said. "I don't believe Pitch would stoop so low as to take a life, just for fear,"

"He tried to kill Sandy," Jack reminded him.

"Yeah, but that was different." Bunny said. "This time, he's killed a child and that has never happened before in the spirit world. Killing an adult carries the strictest penalties and, to my knowledge, only a handful have died by a spirit's hand over the years, but there has never been a child's death by the hands of a spirit."

Jack nodded. "But do _you_ think he did it Bunny?"

Bunny dropped his head into his hands. "I dunno mate," he said. "Toothy doesn't believe that he did it on purpose and Father Time agrees, but there's no proof other than Thanatos's word that he did it or didn't do it on purpose."

"Bunny,"

"I'm sorry Jack, I just don't know!" Bunny said exasperatedly, throwing his paws up in the air. "Pitch is. . ." he paused, thinking.

"A monster?"

Bunny inclined his head. "Yes, but he's also been alone for at least eight thousand years or more. That can make a person bitter."

"So now you're _defending_ him?" Jack said, completely blown away. Bunny _hated_ Pitch! Yet here he was, defending him.

"I'm not defending him!" Bunny said angrily. "I'm just saying that being lonely and alone can change a person. You and I both know that, don't we?"

Jack bowed his head, though his cheeks were pale pink with anger. A cold feeling blossomed in his gut and Jack felt icicles forming on his fingertips, only to break and fall apart, then get replaced by new ones. It was his way of venting.

Why had Bunny brought _that_ up? Wasn't it enough that he'd just told him something really really horrible and now he was drudging up the past? Jack took several deep breaths. There was a girl out there who needed to be avenged, and he knew that when they found Pitch, if he was guilty of killing her, he was going to make him pay.

"So you said someone was out looking for him," Jack said after he'd calmed down. "Who?"

"Arachne, goddess of spiders."

"Oh. And has she found him yet?"

"Nope. Not yet."

Jack stood up and began to pace. He was thinking. Where would Pitch go? And how would one spider find him?

"Jack," Bunny said standing up and putting an arm around the boy's shoulder. "Everything's gonna be alright."

"Bunny, a kid is dead!" Jack said, ducking away. "Until we find Pitch and bring him to justice, everything will _never_ be alright!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Hiya ladies and germs. I'd, again, like to thank you for being so cool and reading my little stories. I know this one hasn't gotten a hundred reviews, like The Boogeyman Tries To Understand Fanfiction, but It's on it's way up.**

**I'm especially thankful to Obi, another nice writer on here, who helped me to write this next chapter with her encouragement. So here is is and, by the way, I'd like to apologize for the last chapter. It was longer than the others and was actually a bit of filler to give me time to write this one. I hope you liked it. It kind of gave us a little insight on how idiotic Jack is at times and also summed everything up for us. Plus it's probably got you pissing your pants to find out what happens next, which was my goal. Now sit back and enjoy the next chapter.**

* * *

"PIIIIIIIITCH!" she yelled one last time. The spiders were getting too close to him. She wasn't going to make it!

Then the spiders overtook her and, with one last look, Pitch stepped through the shadow-portal, leaving her alone.

"Pitch NOOOOOOOOOO!"

Pitch's black-crusted heart almost broke! She really thought he was leaving her. As if. She'd probably find a way to find him again anyway and haunt him for the rest of his life which, if he didn't work this little spark of magic soon, was going to be less than a couple hours.

Pitch rubbed his fingers together. Nightmare sand flowed from his fingertips and over to the portal-hold where the spiders were pouring in. it swept them back as easily as a wave pushing back sand on a beach. The spiders threshed and wiggled, biting at the sand too but they eventually fell unconscious as the nightmare sand engulfed them, sending them spinning back into the other world. Anna was even closer now and Pitch ordered the Nightmare sand to cover up the portal.

The sand obeyed and began circling the edges of the portal, filling in the width slowly, making the circle of light shrink and shrink until there was only a miniscule hole through which Pitch could hear Anna's screams quite clearly.

"PITCH! NO, PLEASE NO!"

"Calm down," Pitch whispered as he gathered all his strength. "Calm down Anna."

Pitch summoned every bit of power in his body, but instinctively he knew it wasn't enough. He needed more power! The portal was draining him! Pitch probed his surroundings for any living being on which he could feed from their fear, but there was nothing. Not even a rodent or a dog! Pitch groaned. He _really_ didn't want to do this, but it was their only hope! He could only keep a shadow-portal open for so long!

Pitch closed his eyes and felt for the fear that was coming from Anna. He didn't have to probe hard. The sensation was everywhere, staining the air around her with a sour smell, like rotting grapes. Pitch had always found supernatural fear, fear experienced by other spirits such as the Guardians, to be much more powerful than regular old terror. Spiritual fear also came with a strange, unique scent for each person.

North's fear smelled like sharp peppermint, Bunny's smelled like sulfur. Toothian's was the awful odor of night breath, (when you sleep with your mouth open and your mouth feels all weird the next morning and your teeth smell like onions,) and Sanderson's was the unlikely scent of curdled milk. Jack's fear was a little harder to see than the others, but Pitch remembered the time he'd lured Jack into his caves with his memories and he'd smelled a scent. The scent of raw ice, the bite of cold, and the noxious, almost intoxicating smell of deep freshwater, turning to black ice.

Pitch pulled out of his own memories, opening his eyes with a sharp snap and remembered that _I have to save her! And then I have to save myself!_

He glanced up and he saw, with a jolt, that there was something poking through the hole. A finger. He could also hear crying and pounding. _She is going to work herself up into a panic and I might not be able to calm her out of it!_ Pitch thought, trying to summon just a _little bit_ more energy to complete what he was going to do.

Pitch cursed. "Anna, get away from the hole!" he yelled. The finger was pulled back and he continued to hear hysterical crying and pounding on the portal which was covered in black Nightmare sand.

"PITCH!" she screamed. "PLEASE!"

The fear in her voice was so overpowering that Pitch almost lost control right then and there, but he kept it together for her sake. He had to close his eyes before he burst with dark power, which he did. With his eyes closed, oblivious to all noise and colors, he realized he could think much more clearly. He also realized that he had enough magical energy inside him right now to power a small city for ten years!

"OK, it's showtime." he said. Then he thought, _I really hope she doesn't smack me._

Pitch reached out and wrapped his thin fingers around the invisible chain around his wrist that connected him to Anna. The chain became visible for three seconds, then Pitch gave a mighty yank on the chain, using all of his strength to pull Anna through the portal and, just at the girl was squeezed through the hole like a salt-shaker through a rolled up napkin, the chain disappeared again. Completely vanished!

Anna came flying out of the tiny hole, screaming, crying and waving her arms. Her spectral body had been compacted into a long thin tube so that she could pass through the hole and when she shot out, her body realigned itself into it's proper size and shape. Automatically Pitch moved to catch her, reaching out his arms and a relieved look in his eyes, but she flew right through him, screaming and thrashing.

As the girl passed through him Pitch felt enough pain to make his mind spin and sent him careering backwards against a wall. The only thing that stopped Anna from flying through the same wall was Pitch's deadweight that stopped her like an anchor and she felt herself being pulled downwards and Pitch fell down too, landing hard on his rear. Pitch let out a cry of anguish, not because of the pain of being passed through but because he could see Anna behind him and she was almost entirely submerged in concrete. Only the top of her head and her thrashing left leg were visible.

"Anna!" Pitch yelled, twisting around just in time to see Anna's absolutely _terrified_ eyes disappearing into the concrete. Pitch yelled her name again and lunged for her flailing arm, which passed right through his and he cursed richly, tugging on the invisible chain. "Dammit! Anna, fight! Come on!"

He tried to get to his feet to pull her up but his energy was completely tapped out and he could barely crawl to his knees, which he did and raised both arms as high as they could go, lifting Anna up out of the ground by _her_ arm. He could only lift her about a foot out of the concrete, but that foot was enough to lift her head out and when he did lift her head out, she started cussing up a storm.

"Damn you Pitch Black when I get out of here I'm gonna pound you like there's no tomorrow! I'll beat your grimy F**ing teeth out and string them us as a gift to the Tooth Fairy! I'll cut all your damn hair off and shred your F***ing man-dress to feed to the yetis! DAMN YOU DAMN YOU DAMN YOU!"

Pitch found himself smirking, despite the massive amount of pain he was in. "Anna, there will be plenty of time to curse at me later. Right now..." he paused as a wave of dizziness hit him like a punch in the gut. "I've... got... to... out- you... get." his mind was muddled and he heard the words spill out of his mouth in the wrong order and he tried to blink to keep himself awake.

Anna stopped her tirade of cussing long enough to notice his slurred speech. "Pitch? What-"

"Gottaaaaaaaaa," Pitch moaned, letting his arm without the ring around it drop. "Gotta geeeeet yooooou oooooout."

Anna's eyes widened as she felt her head begin to sink beneath the concrete again. "Pitch! What the F***?! GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

Pitch stirred himself enough to blink blearily at her and mutter one more word before he fell sideways onto the concrete. "Sooooooorrrryyyyyyyyyy."

"DAMN YOU PITCH BLACK!"

XXXXXXXXX

When Pitch woke up next, it was to someone slapping him hard across the face.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" a voice said over again, punctuating each sentence with a slap. His face hurt, but body hurt, his brain hurt and virtually everything else of his hurt.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" the voice said again, delivering four more slaps to his cheeks.

Pitch moaned something unprintable and tried to raise his arm to smack the hand away, but all of his limbs felt like rubber and he couldn't move them at all. He couldn't feel his toes or his fingers and he couldn't feel much of his face. His legs and arms were numb, completely numb, and he couldn't move them at all. His chest hurt like a wild horse had tromped all over it and, for some bizarre reason, his mouth was really really dry.

His eyes were closed and he couldn't open them. Something was covering them.

"DAMN-blast you Pitch Black why won't you wake up?!" The voice finally shouted after slapping him extra-hard on the right cheek.

Now _that_ woke him up and, despite how numb his arms and legs felt and the covers over his eyes, he jerked upright and yelled something that sounded like, "Don't warn the horses!"

Whoever was with him grabbed him by the shoulder and started shaking him sharply. "Pitch, Pitch you gotta snap out of it!"

Pitch did snap out of it long enough to realize that he recognized the voice! It was-

_"Anna?"_ he rasped. Then he realized that his voice sounded like a broken hair-dryer and he closed his mouth and wet it with his also dry tongue. "Anna?" he repeated with less rasp.

"Ha! You remembered me!" Anna said, then Pitch felt two strong arms wrap around his shoulders and he groaned.

"Anna!" he grunted. If he didn't know better, he'd say there was a yeti hugging him instead of a girl.

"Oh, sorry." she said, releasing him. "I'm just glad you're awake."

"No thanks to you," Pitch muttered. "That slapping hurt!"

"Oh hush up, you big baby," Anna reprimanded, but there was a note of amusement in her voice. Pitch felt something touch the back of his head and he heard the sound of Velcro ripping. "Well, you're awake. That's a good sign."

_Velcro? _he wondered as he felt the thing covering his eyes loosen.

"I'm warning you, you might want to keep your eyes shut." Anna warned as Pitch felt the material pull away. "You've been out for a whi-"

But Pitch didn't listen and his eyes shot open as soon at the thing covering his eyes was lifted off. They opened to blinding white light and Pitch closed them almost immediately with a hiss.

Anna tutted. "Tut tut Pitch, I warned you."

Pitch hissed again and shielded his eyes from whatever was blinding him. "What's wrong with you?!" he spat, keeping his head bowed. "Don't you know that I'm a creature of the night?!_ I __do... not... like... the... sun!_"

Anna laughed. "Pitch, it's not sunlight." she said. "It's a _neon _light!"

Pitch would've blinked with confusion if he'd had his eyes open in the first place. "A _what_ light?"

"A _neon_ light, Pitch. It's electricity. You _do _know what electricity is, don't you?" Anna asked, smirking.

Pitch hissed a third time. "Don't be stupid, of _course_ I know what electricity is!"

Anna laughed. "Ah, so you _are _inhabiting the twenty-first century. That's good to know."

Pitch, _again,_ found himself with to come comeback and he decided to say the first response that came to mind.

"Where am I?" he asked.

Anna laughed and Pitch felt a blow land on his shoulder. He winced.

"And could you not do that, please? It hurts."

"Firstly, I have no freaking clue where we are. Secondly, I'm gonna punch you all I want because you know what?"

Pitch winced. "What?" he croaked.

"I CAN!" she yelled triumphantly and punched him again.

"You-" Pitch started to curse her out for punching an already injured man, then he blinked. Memories began flooding back to him.

"Wait, you're DEAD! You can't touch-"

"Not anymore!" Anna said happily, punching him again on the other shoulder.

Pitch's eyes shot open. "WHAT?!"

And then he got blinded again by the damn neon light.

"ANNA!" he bellowed, shielding his poor eyes with a forearm once more and scrambling back. "PUT THAT DAMN LIGHT _OUT!"_

"Righto Pitch!" the girl said. Pitch heard the click of a switch and he assumed the lights were out but he didn't want to take the chance that Anna still had the lights on or was going to turn them on when he opened his eyes, as punishment for pretending to leave her.

"And for future instances, KEEP them off!" Pitch growled, opening his eyes a crack. The lack of light soothed his eyes and he opened them all the way, scanning the area around him.

They were in a big room, most likely underground where no natural light reached, and there were _things,_ dark shadows and indefinable lumps that Pitch assumed were crates and boxes, power tools hung on the walls and wires hung from broken fixtures. Pitch assumed they were either in a basement or someone's really dirty garage.

"Anna," he said slowly. "I'm going to ask again, where am I?"

Anna smiled. "You're in my basement." she said. "I hope you like it. It was the closest place I could find."

Pitch blinked. Anna's words took a long time to process and then they did, Pitch just stared at her blankly. "We were in Paris last I checked." he said slowly.

"Yes," Anna said, inviting him to go on.

"And you thought the closest safe place would be _all the way back in the states?_" Pitch was incredulous- no, he was more than that. He was downright confused at Anna's either bad sense of direction or idiocy. (He bet a little bit of both.)

"Meh. It's kind of more complicated than that," Anna said.

Pitch cocked his head and regarded her. His expressions changed rapidly, switching from annoyance, anger, amusement, irritation, worry, apprehension and finally, a small smile settle upon his lips.

"Well, you'd better tell me everything then." he said. "First off, why the heck are you glowing?"

Anna looked down at herself. She was indeed glowing. "Oh, this? Oh that's just something cool I recently learned how to do. Gives me more of a _ghostly_ impression, don't you think?"

Pitch remained staring at the girl.

"And as for why I dragged you back here- and I can tell you it wasn't fun," she added, glaring down her nose at him. "I figured that they wouldn't look in a human's house. No one ever comes down here, except my brother. And last I checked, he'd grounded and doesn't believe in the Boogeyman any more."

Pitch nodded. "Fabulous." he said, with just a hint of sarcasm.

"It is, really," Anna said mildly. "We won't be bothered and, now that you're awake, we can get moving."

"Get moving?" Pitch repeated.

"Yes. Those demon-spiders won't be fooled for long. I led them back to your caves and a bunch of them are still there, waiting to ambush you." she paused and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "How're you feeling?"

Pitch rubbed his head. "Ugh. I feel like I've just eaten a barrel of rusty nails." he muttered.

"That'll go away in a day or so." Ana said dismissively.

"My arms hurt, my legs hurt," Pitch continued.

"That's because I had to drag you across three states." Anna said matteroffactly. "Now, I need you to quit groaning for a minute and listen. There are a fewvery important things I've got to tell you."

Pitch nodded and raised his head, ready to listen.

Without warning, Anna hauled back and smacked him across the cheek once again and he was thrown backwards into a wall. Pitch felt his cheek burn and he raised his head with an amazed look on his face.

"You hit me!" he said, more out of surprise than outrage.

"Yes." Anna replied flatly.

"For moon's sake, why?!"

"That was for making me think you were going to leave me." she said.

Pitch sighed. "I guess I had that-"

Then Anna lunged towards him and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly once more. At this point, Pitch was too tired and confused to even object and he just sat there on a lumpy cot with Anna's arms around him, thinking, _I will __**never**__ understand this girl._

Then, as if Anna hadn't already driven him half-mad with confusion and surprise, she decided to step it up a notch and leaned in to give him a small peck on the gray cheek.

"And that's for coming back."

Pitch closed his eyes. Anna frowned. There was a weird look on his face, like he'd just found a single seed in the last section of a tangerine. Sour. She wondered what he was thinking. Probably something she wouldn't understand. She didn't have long to wait and find out though.

"Oh gods, this is a nightmare isn't it?" he moaned. "I'm asleep and I'm dreaming some weird and hellish dream, given to me by Sanderson as punishment for killing you. Yes," he said, nodding. "That explains it all. You're being solid, us being so far from Paris, you glowing," he cracked a grin. "You kissing me.

"You wish." Anna said, smirking. "One, that was a _peck,_ not a kiss. That'd be extremely creepy. Two, I have a feeling you're going to conk back out again, so you probably won't remember this anyway."

Pitch cracked another grin and both eyes opened half-way. "I sure hope so."

Anna snorted. "Oh, _thanks _Pitch." she said sarcastically. "You sure know how to talk to a girl."

Pitch leaned back against the pillow that had been placed under his head very gently, no doubt also by Anna. "I do indeed." he muttered, closing his eyes again.

Anna chuckled. "Not one for humility, huh Pitch?"

"No point in being humble if this is a dream." Pitch mumbled. He was tired and he wanted to rest again and try to end this weird dream.

"No, I suppose you're right."

Anna paused, watching the Boogeyman laying peacefully on the cot. She smiled, putting a hand on Pitch's forehead, just in case spirits could get fevers. His head was neutral-temperature. Not too cold, not too warm. Good.

Pitch didn't object to her hand except to lean his head to the left a little bit, towards her. Anna wished she had a cameras to capture this moment forever. The Boogeyman, curled up like a baby on a cot and her, caring for him like a nursemaid.

She sniggered. "Good night Pitch."

"G'night Annnnnnnnnaaaaaaaa." Pitch said, speaking half in a moan and half like normal. "Seeeeeeeeee ya tomorroooooooooooowwwww."

Anna smiled. "You're delirious." she said matter-of-factly. "Go to sleep. Your senses will probably return when you wake up again. Until then, I'll keep an eye on you."

Pitch nodded. Sleep, even though he didn't need it, began to take him in once more. He only had enough consciousness to say, "Thank you," before he dropped off once more.

Anna smiled. "This has got to be the weirdest night of my entire life." she said, smiling to herself.

XXXXXXXXX

When Pitch opened his eyes again, the first thing he thought was, _I'm glad I'm not getting slapped this time. _

Pitch had definitely had better days, even though he was feeling much better since his first awakening.

Yes, he was firmly convinced that there had been a first awakening. Not that he knew for certain what had _happened_ during that first awakening. All he remembered was waking up getting slapped and a glowing figure. Anna. He remembered Anna and a bright, glowing light that had blinded him for a few seconds. He remembered how much it had hurt.

And he also remembered Anna hugging him.

Pitch's body hurt less than when he'd first woken and he could even talk, though he didn't. There was no point talking to yourself, even if he'd done it every single night since he'd been turned into the Boogeyman. No one else to talk to. Pitch sighed. His mind was more relaxed than it had ever been and his limbs were all somewhere in between numb and tingly. They didn't hurt at all.

Pitch stretched his arms. The cot was comfortable, though lumpy, and he was in complete stillness and darkness. Everything was calm and wonderful. Pitch sighed again. Oh, how blissful this was! All he wanted to do was lay there for an eternity, be damn all the spirits that were after him! He would be safe here.

Pitch flexed his fingers and toes, then he cracked his neck slowly and carefully. Everything in good, working order. Perfect. Pitch sat up slowly, swinging his legs off of the cot and sitting there, trying to make everything come into focus_. _Pitch kneaded his eyes, trying to rub the sleep from them and when he lowered his knuckles he was pleased that his eyes easily picking out shapes in the dark shadows. Boxes and crates.

He scanned the room once again, then he frowned. Where was Anna? Unless she had learned to turn her glow _off_ as well as _on, _she wasn't in the room with him. The room was completely black.

"I thought she said she'd stay with me," he muttered, unable to keep a note of reproachfulness out of his voice.

"I did stay with you!" Anna said behind him.

Pitch- to his eternal shame- jumped up off of his cot only to trip and fall, tangled in the blankets that Anna had placed over him. He swore and twisted, ripping at the blankets, trying to free himself.

"Where are you?" he asked, wildly looking around.

Anna's voice came form him behind him again. "I'm right here, you goober." she said. Then, a bright silvery glow filled the room and Pitch raised one hand to shield his eyes from the bright glow.

"Anna!" he yelled, cringing from the hated light.

Silence.

"Anna?" he said again, a little quieter and there was a hint of nervousness in it. Pitch felt a hand fall on his shoulder.

"Pitch," Anna's voice said right in his ear. "Calm down. I'm right here."

Pitch lowered his arm slowly, his eyes still closed. "Is the light gone?"

"Yes Pitch. I'm sorry about that." and she sounded sincere. "I forgot about your vampiric aversion to light."

"I'm not a vampire." Pitch said sullenly, accepting her outstretched hand. "I'm a _shadow."_

Anna smirked. "A _dark shadow_?"

"Yes. The darkest." Pitch replied without missing a beat.

Anna sniggered. "Man, I can have a lot of fun with you and modern movie-quotes." she said, smiling wickedly.

Pitch sighed. "I have no idea what you're talking about and I have a feeling I'll find out later anyway, so can you just explain to me the events that occurred after my incapacitation? I think that's all my mind can handle right now."

Anna smiled. "I don't know about-"

"Just. . . tell me." Pitch said, rubbing his right hand over his face.

Anna shrugged. "OK. Well, after you conked out-"

"Wait just a minute!" Pitch interrupted, holding out his hand. "_Conked out? _I did not _conk o__ut! _I was exhausted from keeping that portal open! Exhausted from KEEPING YOU ALIVE!"

five. . . four. . . three. . .two. . .

Anna started to laugh. She laughed and laughed, holding her stomach and trying not to hiccup.

"Alright, alright." Pitch grumbled. "You had your fun."

"I'm still having it!" Anna said between laughs.

Pitch glowered. "I do not enjoy being laughed-"

"THEN QUIT SAYING FUNNY STUFF!" Anna yelled, nearly blowing Pitch's ears out and then lapsing back into giggles once more.

Pitch rubbed his temples with the heel of his hands. "Anna," he said in a voice of determined calm. "I just woke up and now I have a splitting headache."

Silence.

"Anna?" Pitch asked. Had she gone? Pitch raised his head and his vision was immediately obscured by Anna's black hair.

"ANNA!" Pitch exclaimed, then some of Anna's hair flew into his mouth and up his nose and he choked.

"A- _*cough* _ANNA! what the-"

Anna paid him no heed and wrapped her arms around him once more.

Pitch sighed. He assumed that not being able to touch another being, even if it were only for a few hours, was freaking her out and she was randomly hugging him because of it.

"Pitch," Anna said, "I'm really sorry about your headache. I hope this helps."

Pitch's eyes widened. _Hope **what** helps? _

And then Pitch felt it.

The feeling spread from where Anna' pale hands touched his back all through his body, up his spinal column and down his nerves. It was a sensation Pitch could only describe as magical.

_"Anna,"_ Pitch gasped. The feeling was so wonderful, so intense, that he couldn't say anything else. Instead he just sat there, trying to contain the joy that was blooming inside his chest. It was hard. The magical feeling was spreading through his body, covering every inch of his being in happiness and released a humming sensation that traveled over his skin, rippling it. It was such a wondrous feeling that he did not ever want to move.

The feeling spread, faster and faster, instantly healing all of his many cuts, bruises and other injuries sustained while he was unconscious, most likely from being dragged across three states- if Anna's word could be trusted. The power coursed through his legs and down to the edges of his toes, to his fingers and finally up, up, up through the base of his neck and to the crown of his head. Instantly Pitch's headache went away.

Anna released him, smiling. "Better?"

He nodded mutely.

"Little trick I perfected a few days ago." she replied smugly.

Pitch continued to stare blankly at her. His body was almost completely numb and he was too shocked, amazed and. . . was happy the word? Maybe it was.

Or, maybe the word for the feeling that was enveloping him in it's soft blanket of peace was content.

Yes, for the first time in his life, Pitch Black was content.

And then Anna slapped him gently across the left cheek.

THAT certainly broke the spell of peace that had been cast over the Boogeyman.

"Ow." Pitch said, rubbing his cheek. Then the full effect of her slap- (plus the other slaps Anna had given him,) hit him and he said, "OW!" A little bit louder and a lot more indignantly.

"Hey, you were spacing out." Anna said, by way of an explanation. "Plus, I've learned that slapping you is very therapeutic for working out my inner anger."

Pitch was still staring at her with a look mixed with outrage and surprise on his grey -and now slightly pink- face.

"Aaaaaaand now we're back to you staring at me. That's getting very creepy, by the way."

He continued to stare at her.

"Shall I slap you again?" Anna asked sweetly, raising her and.

Pitch visibly blanched and Anna lowered her hand, laughing. "Don't worry Pitch, I'm not gonna slap you again."

Pitch let out a sigh of relief.

"Until you annoy me."

Pitch shot her a look and Anna laughed again. "Then I'll try to avoid that."

"And so you should." Anna said, smiling down at him."

Pitch nodded. "While we're on the subject, would you finally care to tell me how this miraculous change of state," he gestured to Anna's body. "came about?"

She looked down at herself. "Huh? Oh, you mean the being-able-to-touch-you-thing, right?"

Pitch nodded. "Yes Anna."

"Oh, pfft! This is nothing!" Anna said, laughing and waving her hand dismissively. "When we're up and running I'll show you my glow-girl stuff."

Pitch didn't even want to know. "Anna, your solidity?"

"Ah, yes. Well, it was actually really simple after I got over the shock of being dead. Once I realized that this was _not _a freaky dream and I really _was_ dead, random abilities began to open up for me." she laughed. "He he. I actually took off flying about a day ago, and I couldn't stop myself for a few hours." she raised a finger to Pitch's face and traced a cut over his right eyebrow. "That's how you got this."

Pitch raised his hand to the cut, which wad healing quickly, and blinked. "What, did you drag me along like an anchor?"

"A delightful image," Anna said, smirking. "And almost accurate. I _was_ actually holding onto you, but I was flying most of the time."

She didn't tell him that she'd been carrying him like a baby almost the entire time she'd been running. She hadn't had the luxury of shadow-traveling, so she'd had to run, walk and yes, fly, across the Atlantic and plenty of land to get back to Burgess. It had taken a week to get from Paris, France to Burgess, Pennsylvania.

"So you can fly now?" Pitch asked, smiling.

"Oh yes. A week of practice and I'm already out-stripping cars."

Pitch's eyes widened. "A _week?!_"

"Yes. It's been a week since you saved my afterlife from those demonic spiders." Anna said. "You were completely unconscious the whole time, until three hours ago. And you're really lucky that you don't weigh much, or else you'd have dragged me down."

Pitch had no comeback, once again.

"In that time, I learned how to fly, fade, hover, spook, glow, make things fly around and a bunch of other things that I don't know the names for.

Pitch was astounded. He'd always assumed that ghosts learn their powers in time. He'd never heard of one gaining access, let alone _control,_ over their powers so quickly!

He was silent for another minute, then he smiled. "Well, since you're so proud of your talent, why don't you show me?"

Anna's face split into a wide smile and she jumped up from her seated position in front of Pitch. She jumped a bit _too_ high, actually, and ended up floating six and a half inches above the floor, clapping her hands in excitement.

"Yes yes YES!" she squealed, jumping up and down in mid air.

Pitch smiled. Inside he felt happy that Anna was getting used to being a spirit. He knew that, in some cases, humans who had been turned into spirits didn't want to accept the change and had gone insane because of it. Others had been so scared by their powers that they'd locked themselves away and died of disbelief. Still others had decided to use their gifts to try and do more than they were supposed to, like changing wars and things like that. Things that were not supposed to be done.

The Moon and Father Time had had to spend a hundred years fixing the mistakes of one rogue spirit, Black Annis- his female counterpart. She'd once been the spirit of lost children, referred to in some of the highland countries as a Wisp or Will, of the Wisps. She helped lost children, both mentally and physically, get back to their homes and, if they didn't have a standing home, she took them to her giant mansion in the middle of the earth.

The Mansion was huge enough for a million children, the food never ran out, neither did the water, there were beautiful forests to explore and mountains to climb, but the children never fell when they climbed the mountains and they never died. They lived there, forever, in happiness and joy. This was were some of those Science-Fiction novels got the paradise-in-the-middle-of-the-earth-idea from.

That had gone on for a few hundred years, then something had happened to Black Annis. Pitch had no idea what, as he'd been in a different part of the galaxy at the time and no one had told him. All he knew, from tales and ghost stories, was that Black Annis had gone insane and massacred every single child she'd taken in and ate them. Then she'd become so warped and twisted that she was no longer a spirit any more.

She was a dark being, with no rules or restraints. Eventually, she'd had to be killed. Thanatos, Father Time, Gaia and even the Man in the Moon himself had personally taken her down and her ashes had been scattered across the worlds in hopes that she would never return.

Pitch sighed. Black Annis. She'd been the only spirit that could, by record, be classified as a child-killer. There was a longstanding debate, however, that claimed Black Annis had been corrupted into something horrible and far beyond spirit _before _she'd eaten the children. It was just a technicality, Pitch knew. She'd been a spirit alright. A _dark _spirit.

"OK," Anna said, shaking Pitch out of his musings. "What do you want to see first?"

"Well, you're already flying." Pitch said, smiling.

Anna looked down. "So I am." she said.

Pitch's smile a fraction of an inch and the corners of his eyes crinkled. "I assume you've gotten farther than hovering," he said.

"I have indeed." Anna said proudly, puffing out her chest. And then she began to rise.

First it was a foot, then it was two, then she was bobbing seven feet above the floor. Her head nearly touched the ceiling.

"Impressive." Pitch said, cocking his head and clapping gently.

Anna smirked. "You ain't seen nothing yet."

Pitch showed her his sharp, yellow teeth in an amused smile. "Please, continue."

Anna nodded and raised her right hand with her fingers splayed, then swung her left hand out behind her, superman-style. Then she raised her right leg and folded it up against her right thigh. Pitch smiled. She looked like a comic book hero. Ghost Girl. He chuckled.

And then Anna did something that surprised even Pitch.

She completely disappeared.

Pitch blinked, wondering if this was just a trick of the lack-of-light.

No. It wasn't. Anna was gone.

"Anna?" Pitch said, standing shakily to his feet. He wasn't used to people just going _*pop*. _Although, he reflected, this was probably how every child he'd ever scared felt when he disappeared into the shadows and then popped up right-

RIGHT BEHIND HIM!

"BOO!"

Pitch jumped at least three feet off the ground, screaming rather shrilly and then spewing a very long string of curse words as he whirled around and stared wildly at the small area behind him.

"ANNA!" Pitch bellowed, a snarl forming on his face.

"Yeeeeees?"

Pitch whirled around again and, to his utter surprise, saw Anna floating in midair, with her chin propped up on her fists and her elbows were propped on the empty air. Her feet were swinging up and down, up and down, then side to side. Her feet were almost hypnotizing. She had a very wide smile on her face and her eyes were alight with mischief.

"ANNA!" Pitch groaned, glaring at the floating girl.

"Yeeeeeeees?" she said again, sliding her hand out from under her chin and cocking her head.

"You-! What-" he spluttered, his face shifting from emotion to emotion too fast for his mind to keep up.

"Yeeeeeeees."

Pitch sighed. "Oh darkness." he muttered. "I have a feeling I'm never going to get a moment's peace after this moment."

Anna appeared behind him, tapping him on the shoulder. He jumped.

"Nope." she said, popping the_ P_.


	10. Chapter 10

**Aloha kiddies!**

**First of all, the review under my name was written by my cousin who I lent my laptop to and decided to read all my stories. As a result, she posted _I love it_, in Fear is a Killer and it annoys me. I swear, it's not me being egotistical.**

**Secondly, I want to apologize to all my wonderful peoples on here for waiting so patiently for this chapter. I'm seriously sorry about how long it took to write the last chapter and how long it took to get this one up and going. I had a butt-ton of family stuff and babysitting duty was practically every day! So, I'd like to thank you for being patient.**

**lastly: Really, I'd like to thank you guys a lot for this. You're giving my stories a second chance and I'm really grateful for that. Thank you.**

**Alrighty, here we go!**

* * *

_In Toothiana's palace. . ._

Toothiana, queen of the tooth fairy armies, was flying around giving half-hearted orders to her fairy daughters.

"A pre-molar in Saint Paul, three bicuspids and a canine in Santa Rosita, twelve incis-" Tooth stopped up short and frowned. "Is that right? _Twelve_ incisors in Monaco?"

A squeak of affirmation came from the tiny fairy-girl hovering at her right elbow and Toothiana raised a feathery eyebrow.

"Well, that's a bit odd, don't you think?"

Two squeaks and a chirp.

"Oh, well you might've mentioned that it was the hockey season in Monaco!" Tooth said, just the tiniest bit crossly.

A meek squeak.

Tooth sighed and raised her hand to her feathery forehead and rubbed it. "Yes, I'm sorry. I'm just a little on-edge. What with the. . ." she looked up and gave her daughter a meaningful look. "You know."

The fairy-girl flew up and nuzzled her little rainbow head against her mother's face. Yes, she knew.

All the Guardians had been on tenterhooks since the meeting. The other spirits were back to their regular jobs, including her, and they'd all been waiting for some kind of sign from Father time or Arachne about Pitch's whereabouts. So far, nothing. Word from the spider-woman was, her children had tracked Pitch to Paris, then he'd disappeared. Just gone! Poof!

Tooth was having the hardest time going back to work, mostly because she'd been one of the two Guardians who'd seen the video/memory/thing and it had cut her _deep._ She hadn't believed that Pitch would really stoop so low! _Killing _a _child! _It was almost unthinkable, but there it was. She'd seen the memory and it hadn't looked fake at all to her.

Tooth sighed and rubbed her little girl's head. All this thinking about it wasn't doing her any good and she could feel the first headache she'd had in several hundred years coming on. She sighed. This was ridiculous! She had work to do! Teeth needed to be collected! Then her head gave a nasty throb and she let out a small moan.

"Fine. Fine. I submit." she muttered, then she looked at her tiny daughter. "I'm going up to my room, OK? Tell Baby Tooth that she's in charge for a few hours."

Her daughter looked dubious.

"I just have a headache is all. Go on." Tooth told her little girl, raising her lips in a tiny smile. A squeak of affirmation and the little fairy-girl flew off.

Tooth watched her go and then raised her right hand to her head, pressing down on her crown to try and block the headache, but she knew it wouldn't work. She needed rest and she knew it, so she took one last look at her busy little girls, she was so proud of them, then began to fly. Up, up up she flew, heading to the highest point of her palace where her own private quarters were.

The Tooth Palace was a beautiful sight. Upside-down towers that looked like bee hives, the Tooth Towers with flat platforms circling the tops of the towers, the green grass below and the clear, blue water running over dark-blue rocks and pooling in reservoirs where Tooth and her girls, when they weren't working, occasionally waded in and dangled their feet in the warm water.

Bridges crisscrossed from tower to tower and clear, blue waterfalls ran down the mountainside that her palace was built into. It was a paradise to Tooth. The most amazing, comfortable and beautiful place on earth. Nowhere was more full of light and happiness- to Tooth, anyway. She assumed that the others felt the same way about their homes.

"Bunny does love his Warren," she mused aloud. "North loves his workshop," then she frowned. "I wonder where Sandy lives."

The Sandman had never shown any of them his home and none of the others really thought about it, so she dismissed the thought and focused on her headache which was rapidly draining away.

Tooth flew up up up, farther and farther, until she found the room she was looking for, tucked away in a small alcove high above the other towers that clung to the ceiling. You couldn't see it because the shelf of rock was completely camouflaged against the ceiling if you looked up at it, and the only way to find it was to fly all the way up to the areas where the walls led into the ceiling and rivers of water that twisted through the mountainside came out through cracks and find it by sight.

The door was barely visible behind a curtain of dark green vines with blue and purple flowers that grew from between cracks in the rock face, along with the streams of water which trickled, poured or thundered down to the pools below. Tooth pushed the flowering vines aside and then in front of her was a small, circular door with curly designs etched into the wood- which was a dark kind of wood with natural whirls and grainy, golden flecks.

In the center of the door was a small, circular imprint that Tooth raised her right hand to and smiled in satisfaction as the door glowed a deep blue and tendrils of light began to escape from the circle.

"Over a thousand years and it still works," Tooth said to no one in particular, raising her other hand as the magic, which hadn't been used in a great long while, twisted and floated through the air. It floated through her thin fingertips and she twirled them gently, making the blue magic crackle between over her skin and a few of her smaller feathers stood on end.

"Oh boy." she said, feeling another tendril of power go through her fingertips. "Still going strong eh?" Of course, the tendril didn't answer her and she smiled, watching the magic fade away slowly, into nothing.

Then the magic finished unsealing the door and it swung inwardly, without a sound. Tooth smiled, letting her left hand drop and holding up her right hand to scrutinize it. Her smile widened. She hadn't been here in years and none else ever came anywhere near here, so it was no surprise at all when her hand came away and she saw that a faint layer of dust was covering it.

She wiped her hands and then looked back up at the door. _I haven't been here for so long, _she thought.

Tooth walked through the door and called, "I'm home!" flying over the threshold and then alighting on her dainty feet.

Yes, she knew that no one would answer her, but she didn't really care.

Tooth had a strange habit of talking to no one when she was alone, but she didn't care much. She'd been alone for the first hundred years of her spirit-life, trying to figure out who she was and what she was meant to do. Then she'd figured out how to make miniature copies of herself and she wasn't along any more!

_Being alone,_ she reflected as she walked- (_walked,_ not flew,) to the bottom of a set of intricately carved stairs, _was part of being a Guardian. They'd all been alone once. Bunny, North, and most of all, Sandy._

Sandy was older than all of the other Guardians put together. Roughly ten thousand years, give or take a millennium, and so he'd been alone the longest. The little fat man disliked talking about his past, as did they all, but he had confided in them a long time ago that he had once had a brother when he was human, but that brother had died, leaving him all alone. After that day, no one had asked about the Sandman's past.

Tooth shook herself out of her gloomy thoughts about Sandy and began to climb the staircase, running her fingers over the soft wood and feeling the muscles in her legs pulse gently. It was good to be walking again. Flying so much had made her a bit lazy and she was glad to get some exercise again. She went up the steps carefully and let her hand trail over the smooth wood.

The railing clung to the edge of the cave and curled like a Celtic charm, tiny branches overlapping one another and twisting to form patterns, eyes and sometimes even faces. It was a beautiful piece of work and Tooth was really glad that she'd decided to come here. This place was the only place she knew that would welcome her with open arms. It's memories engulfed her and made her feel safe and warm.

"Anybody home?" Tooth asked, smiling. "No? _Good!_" she laughed, then she smiled and quoted a poem she'd learned a long time ago. "In this beautiful home of mine, which sings with magic and crawls with vine. This wondrous home I keep close to my heart, I'll stay here until my whole world falls apart."

The modern equivalent of this would be, "I love my house, I love my nest. In all the world, my nest is best."

Tooth made it to the top of the stairs a few minutes later and pushed the unlocked door open. There wasn't much need for it to be closed anyway. No one could get past the first door so there wasn't any point in locking the second one or even shutting it all the way, but Tooth had picked up the courteous habit of closing every door when she exited a room.

Inside the room was a soft, purple beanbag chair, a desk with a stool, several hundred books on ornate black wooden shelves, a mirror, another small desk with brushes, bottles and combs lined up neatly on it, a basin full of fresh water and a huge window that looked out over the entire Tooth Palace. Tooth looked down and smiled. The floor was also made from glass. Thick, completely translucent glass that allowed her to look down on the rooms below.

Her smile widened and she sighed contentedly, sinking into her beanbag chair and relaxing. This place was so amazing! The glass floor never got scuffed and the wood never cracked. Around the edges where the wood met the glass was a thin, fuzzy line that seemed to meld glass and wood together. The walls of her room here wood as well. A rich, chocolatey color that made her think of auburn hair and hazel eyes.

After about five minutes of blissful sitting in her favorite beanbag chair, Tooth got up and walked over to the closest desk and sat down.

"Now what am I going to do?" she asked the mirror in front of her. "My headache's all but gone, _THANK GOODNESS,_ and now I'm feeling a lot better, but I still feel like something weird is missing. Huh."

Tooth bent down and pulled open one of the drawers in her desk and pulled out a small picture-frame with an even smaller picture inside. The picture was cloth and the image had been drawn upon it such life-like detail that she almost expected the occupants to lift off the material! but they didn't.

The edges were burned and blackened, but it was possible to see the three figures standing in the center:

A tall, beautiful being with the same feather-covered body as Tooth, but with all green feathers instead of rainbow feathers and a crown upon her head and deep green eyes. She smiled down lovingly at the human-looking baby in her arms. The baby had bright fuchsia eyes and she held onto her mother as only a baby could, with love and an assurance that nothing could happen while she had her n her arms.

Beside the woman and the baby was a tall, tanned man with black hair and a wide grin on his face. His chest was bare and he had his arms wrapped around the woman and was also staring down at the baby in her arms.

The look on his face was so full of love and warmth that Tooth felt a tiny tear trickle down her cheek and she raised her finger and traced the woman's face gently.

That woman was her mother. The man, her father. The baby, her.

Tooth smiled and set the picture down face up, then she raised her head and looked at herself in the mirror.

"My feathers look kind of limp," she commented to herself. "I should be using that peacock feather-shine stuff more often."

Tooth picked up one of the bottles on her desk and inspected it, then she popped the top and sniffed it. She recoiled.

"Blech! This stuff's gone stale!"

She picked up the bottle gingerly and headed over to a small bin where she bent down and dropped it gently, making a mental note to get a new bottle. Then she straightened up and was about half-way to her desk again when she froze.

There was a strange feeling creeping up her spine and it was ruffling her feathers. She shook herself and made her way back to her desk, then the feeling shot through her again and she winced. "What the heck-" she started to say, but the magical power that swept over her before she could complete her question left her gasping for air.

_What the heck was going on?!_

Her stomach felt like a yeti had punched her in the gut and her brain felt like it was being put through an orange juicer! Acid was bubbling in her stomach and it was a good thing she was sitting, otherwise she was sure she would have fallen over by now. Her hands were going limp and Tooth found that she could barely move.

"Help!" she tried to call, but her mouth was numb. The numbness was spreading and, for an instant, Tooth wondered if Pitch had killed another child. That was what had caused her last bout of pain. Maybe it was causing her latest as well.

_But, no. . . He couldn't have!_ Tooth thought as she felt herself sway forward. _Why would he kill again when Arachne is already on his trail? It doesn't make sense._

Thoughts swirled around her mind as she pitched forward and her face met the wooden surface of the desk, sending pain shooting through her forehead.

_Oh Manny, _Tooth thought. _WHAT IS HAPPENING?! _Then her vision began to blur. Her eyes remained open, but it was like a layer of netting had been set over them. She could barely make out the desk before her and she tried not to think about if Pitch really had killed another child and if she was in for another world of pain, which she had a feeling she was.

The edges of her blurry sight began to turn dark and she knew she was blacking out.

_No! No, no, no, no, no NO!_ she thought, fighting to stay awake. _GIRLS! GIRLS, HELP!_

But her daughters didn't respond.

Tooth kept her eyes open as long as she could, thrashing and trying to raise her hands to her face to rub against her eyes, crying, begging her girls to come help her, but eventually she succumbed to whatever sensation that was creeping over her and she slumped over the desk, asleep.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Tooth's eyes opened with a snap!

"WHOA!" she yelled, toppling backwards through her chair and landing softly on the floor. The glass made a very creepy echoy sound as her feathery read-end hit it and she cringed, rubbing the base of her spine.

"OW!" she moaned, closing her eyes. "Hurt!"

The pain from the fall wasn't much, but there was a strange pre-fall shock that was rattling her system. It sent shudders up and down her spine and her arms felt numb. So did her legs, but she was beginning to feel the familiar sensation of pins-and-needles that heralded her un-numbed legs.

Tooth tried to stand, but her legs weren't strong enough and she collapsed back onto the ground.

"Well, as long as I'm here I can at least try and figure out what the heck is going on with me today," Tooth muttered, closing her eyes again. It helped her headache to not have the world spinning around her. "Honestly! First I have to deal with a headache, then I get knocked unconscious, THE SECOND TIME IN A WEEK MIGHT I ADD, and NOW I'm waking up with a horrible feeling in my stomach and my legs are numb. NOT COOL!"

Tooth was more than a little ticked off, (in fact she was half-way to seething,) but she swallowed her anger and tried to focus.

"Focus Tooth. That's it. Focus on the important things: Where am I?" Tooth opened her eyes and said. "Well that's obvious. I'm still in my rooms. There's my chair, and there's-"

Tooth froze.

"There's... someone sitting in my chair."

And indeed there _was_ someone sitting in her chair. A feathery someone who didn't look too big and was slumped over her desk, as if asleep.

Tooth sat there for about ten minutes, wondering who it was and, more importantly, how they'd gotten into her private rooms! No one got in here, ever, without her permission! Whoever this was had either followed her in or cheated her magical lock somehow, which was impossible.

Finally Tooth blinked and summoned up enough courage to speak. "Um, hello?"

The figure didn't respond. They didn't even twitch.

Tooth frowned. _That was a bit rude_, she thought. _Well, if they want to be rude, then I'll just have to comply as well._

She took a deep breath. "YO! Person sitting in _my chair_!"

Nothing.

Tooth sighed. "They must be asleep." she muttered, folding her arms and glaring at the person's back."Or unconscious." Then a thought struck her. "Maybe my girls brought them here because they were trespassing," she mused_._

_But then why the heck would they put them in my private rooms and in my chair?_

Wait. . . _chair_?

Hadn't she just fallen out of _that exact same chair?_

With an enormous amount of effort, Tooth struggled to her feet and fell against the side of the wooden wall that faced the person in her chair. What she saw nearly knocked her down again.

"It's... me!"

It was her. Feathers and all! The sleeping body was none other than her own!

Tooth gazed at the frame of her unconscious body in wonder.

"My feathers, my face, my hands, it's all there!" she said in amazement, taking a hesitant step closer. Her body didn't stir. Tooth reached out a hand and tried to feel her own crown of rainbow feathers, but she received a surprised shock when her finger went right through!

"Whoa!" she said, stumbling back a few steps. She collided with the wall and had to brace herself to keep from falling over or sliding down. "What the-" Tooth didn't know what the heck was happening. Falling through objects, not being able to touch another being, the horrible feeling in her gut that had been receding slowly but was now back with a fiery vengeance.

"UGH!" Tooth groaned, holding her hand against her stomach. "What the heck is going on?!"

Her body felt like liquid fire was coursing through her hollow bones. Never before had she felt so horrible. It was like dying, only worse!

_Dying..._

"Am I dead?" Tooth wondered aloud, momentarily forgetting the pain she was in. "That would explain a few things. _UGH! _like the massive amount of pain that I am experiencing right about now. Ghosts and echoes can't touch their bodies without experiencing massive amounts of pain, or so Grimm tells me."

Tooth looked at her face, pressed against the smooth boards of the desk. Her eyes were closed and she couldn't see even a flicker of move- THERE! Her mouth! Tooth watched intently as her mouth moved about a fraction of a centimeter as she inhaled, and then exhaled.

"I'm not dead then. Good. I didn't want Baby Tooth succeeding me _that_ fast!" she said, smiling. The pain was vanishing as quickly as it had come and soon she was strong enough to make her way over to her body. She was still breathing.

"So... if I'm not dead..."

Tooth gazed down at her living, breathing body, then she looked at her ghostly glowing hands. It sure felt like she was still alive, but it also felt like there was something missing. A spark, a flicker. It was so hard to put in words! Tooth stared from her glowing hands to her breathing body, wondering what had happened to her.

Had Pitch caused her to stop being believed in again? Was that why she was having the Out Of Body Experience? Or was it simply that she was supposed to do something that her corporeal body couldn't accomplish?

"Huh. Well, that explains the glowing." Tooth muttered, smiling and looking back up at her body.

_Wait, glowing?_

Tooth looked down and, for the first time, actually _noticed _her strange glowing skin and feathers. The glow was slight and almost unnoticeable, but Tooth could see the gently pulsating blue glow coming off her skin. It was beautiful and reminded her of the magical glow that opened the door to her hidden room.

It also reminded her of the blueish ghostly light that appeared when a human passed-through her.

Tooth shuddered.

Being passed-through was _not_ a pleasant experience and always made her think of being submerged in ice-cold water.

"OK, so I'm glowing. That just heightens the likelihood of me not being alive or believed in." she said matter-of-factly. "Great. Now I have an excuse to go out and kick Pitch Black's- UGH!"

She was interrupted by a violent jab in the center of her stomach. It knocked the wind out of her and sent her careering backward into the wall.

"AUGH!" she cried as the feeling escalated. It was like a barbed fish-hook was being stabbed into her side, then pulled sharply, but the barbs wouldn't allow the hook to come out and instead her flesh was pierced from the inside. The pain was agonizing. Unbearable! She felt like she was on fire! Nothing could compare to this!

And then, like a soft breeze had lifted it away, the pain vanished- leaving Tooth completely frozen and wondering what the heck had just happened for the second time that hour.

"I hurt all over," she muttered, assessing her injuries. "There's an aching in my chest, and my wings..." she tried to lift said wings up but they were having none of it. The movement sent pain jarring down her hollow bones. "OW! OK, I don't think I'll be flying for a while." she inwardly cussed. Flying was the most amazing thing on the planet!

It made you feel light as air and gave you a freedom noting else did. That was her opinion, anyway. Other people, namely Bunny, might not feel so inclined to enjoy flying.

As Tooth thought about the joys of flying, other things wormed her way into her mind. Why was she here, in this form? Where were the others? Jack and the Guardians and her girls?

"And what, in the name of MiM, is the meaning of these random attacks of pain?!" she wondered aloud, clutching her stomach in case another volley was coming.

Why _was_ she getting all these random pain attacks? Was it because she was ill?

_No, that's ridiculous._ she thought. _Spirits don't get sick._

No? What then?

Thinking so much was beginning to hurt her brain and she dropped her head into her hands, holding it as if that might make the questions stop.

It didn't. The barrage of questions that needed to be answered just kept banging away at her head. Soon they were joined by voices, and a pit of acid began to bubble in her stomach. The voices became louder, drowning out the questions she was asking herself and soon she began to recognize some of the voices.

One was Bunny's, asking her if she had his baby teeth. Another was North, telling her that all his baby teeth had been lost in an avalanche when he was a boy.

"My Mother collected dem, you see. She vanted to give dem all to de spirit of memories all at vonce."

Then she heard human voices. A mother, telling her little girl to put her tooth under a pillow and the fairies would soon come to take it, leaving her a beautiful gem or a small coin in replacement. A father, holding up a tiny white tooth encrusted with brown dried blood and saying to his wife, "'er first! 'Er first!" in a language which hadn't been spoken on earth in several thousand years.

Then, the sad voices came.

The other voices she had heard were so happy and full of joy, but these ones were dreary and almost heartbreaking.

"Mumma, my tooth is gone!" it was a little boy with an eastern accent. Almost English but not quite.

"I'm sorry Raoul, but we had to sell it for money to buy food for the week." the mother sounded truly sorry.

Then the crying started. Fresh, clear salty tears that cascaded down a child she had never met's face. She wasn't just listening to the voices now, she was seeing what had happened to cause them in the past. She could see the boy, half-naked and crying about his lost tooth and his mother, wearing a few rags tied around her chest and a dirty, torn skirt with her arms around him. Her back was exposed and Tooth could see the scars, white against her dirty flesh. It was too much for her to watch.

Tooth turned away, but another vision started.

Another voice, this time male, rang out.

"Karen, what are you doing?" he was on a small, dirty horse and the horse was galloping towards a young woman walking along the road with a pack on her back.

"Don't try to stop me Molin." The woman said. "There's nothing for me here!"

The man jumped off the horse and raced towards the woman, who broke into a run. She moved surprisingly fast and within a minute she was almost gone from sight. The man came to a stop, right in the middle of the road, then he broke down and fell to his knees, weeping and begging for the woman, who Tooth assumed was his wife, to come back.

These memories all happened with a flash in her mind and instantly, she knew why she was feeling so poorly. Why she was having this out-of-body experience and why the pain returned only when she turned to the right, away from the stairs.

"It's a Hunt!" she cried, jumping up and stumbling towards the stairs. "That's what this is! Oh, _why_ didn't I see it before?!"

Tooth felt the strength return to her wings with each step and soon she was flying, soaring down the spiral staircase that led to the main palace. She was pretty sure she knew what was going on with her out-of-body experience, but going down to the main rooms was the only way to make sure. All the bad feelings were gone now she all she felt was a powerful purpose guiding her onward.

Tooth passed her other private rooms as she flew down the long flight of stairs. A room for her books, which she seldom read any more, a room that held all of her clothes from when she was human, and a room for her personal treasures. These personal treasures were mostly shiny things she'd 'borrowed' from humans or found in the trash for some weird reason. A piece of blown glass, a silver hairpin, a shiny blue glass ball with colored sand in it and many other strange items which Tooth didn't know the purpose for.

There were many beautiful memories in those items and that was why she kept them. To see those memories and let the people who had owned them see their happiest memories.

"There's nothing that holds memories more than something you make with your own two hands." she said as she stopped and smiled happily at the Treasury door. It was her favorite place above all in the palace and she took great cares in keeping it clean and orderly. _Memories don't deserve to be kept in a dusty old room where no one can appreciate them._ Tooth thought. Just thinking of those beautiful memories gave her a warm feeling and as she turned to the stairs again, she felt a slight tugging in her heart. Like something was telling her to come in and see the memories once again.

Tooth stopped and frowned. Had she imagined it, or was it just the thought of all those memories and her weird visions in her room upstairs that was giving her the strange feeling? She had no clue.

She stood there for at last five minutes, watching the door and wondering if she should go in there to take a look. Then she shook herself, thinking, _What could possibly be in there that could trigger such a powerful memory-hunt? _She decided to forget about it and continued making her way downstairs. She needed to check on her girls before starting this Hunt. Make sure they were doing alright and that Baby Tooth was handling everything well.

Tooth made it down to the lower level of her personal rooms and opened the door that had been carefully hidden behind the vines. She looked out n the vast beautiful world below and smiled. She was so lucky. then she took to the air, heading down to the tooth slots where the baby teeth of every alive child in the world were kept. The instant she got within ten meters of the nearest tooth tower, she felt a tugging in her gut and she smiled.

"I knew it!" she crowned. Tooth aimed for the closest tower and zoomed around it, waiting for the tugging feeling she knew so well to begin. It didn't.

Tooth was a little confused, so one by one she flew over all the towers in her palace.

First the one that housed the current teeth from Africa, which didn't have that many teeth. The tugging didn't grow stronger. Then she circled the two Australian towers. Nothing. The ten towers for North and South America weren't it either, and by the time Tooth had circled the six towers reserved for teeth lost in her own continent, Asia, and Antarctica- which was a very small single tower, she was thoroughly confused.

"If it's not any of the continents, then where. . ." Tooth scanned the other towers around her. The Hawaiian islands, Greenland, Ireland, England, they were all grouped together at the far end of the tooth tower area. She flew towards them, but none of them gave her the tugging feeling she was looking for.

"Well this is highly odd." Tooth muttered. "Is the tooth from outer space?

Apparently. If she wasn't getting the tell-tale feeling that whatever tooth she was looking for was near, then it wasn't here at all. Children didn't exist on Venus, did they? Tooth wished she could ask one of her girls to fetch it for her, but the girls couldn't see her and were milling around, doing their jobs.

At least, most of them were. A small group of her girls were gathered around the second-tallest spire, chirping and tweeting anxiously.

_Whereismother?_ was the most common question. Along with, _isshesafe?_

_Calm_ _down! _said a voice Tooth knew very well. _Motherissafe, for now. Sheisinherroomsandwecan'tgetinthere, sowewaitforhertocomeout."_

_Butwhatifmother-_

_Motherisfine! _Baby Tooth squeaked firmly, folding her arms. _Untilmothergetsback, I'mincharge. _She looked around at her nervous sisters and smiled. _C'mon girls! Weneedtokeepbusy, andtheonlywaytodothatistodoourjobs. Solet'sgoladies!_

The girls reluctantly chirped in unison and they all flew off to attend to their regular duties as Tooth Fairies. All except Baby Tooth, who stayed hovering on one place, scanning around the palace with her tired amethyst eyes.

_Mother?_

Tooth bowed her head, wishing she could talk to her favorite little girl. All the others were like children to her, but they were just copies really. Baby Tooth was different. Special. She had that golden feather on her forehead, just like Tooth did, and there were little speckles under her eyes too! It was uncanny, how Jack had picked this one fairy to be his friend and the fairy had turned out to be unique.

"Maybe when I fade, Baby Tooth can take over for me." Tooth mused as she flew around aimlessly, waiting for the familiar tug to indicate she was getting close to her prize. But there was nothing.

"Nothing, nothing, nothing." Tooth grumbled as she landed on a flat landing plate covered in intricate pink and golden designs and inlaid with blue stones. "Cliff-notes to nothing. Nothing abridged. The endless encyclopedia of _nothing!_" she sighed, resting her head on her knuckles. "This is one of the weirdest memory-hunts I've ever been on. First all that pain, then those memories, and now not a tooth in sight, and my girls can't even see or hear me!"

She sat there for about ten minutes, wondering what the heck she was going to do. Where could the tooth be? _In some other part of the palace?_

"Not likely." Tooth murmured. "All the teeth my girls and I take are taken to the Tooth Towers! Every... single... one..." Tooth blinked. Something was coming back to her. Another memory but. . . this time her own! Something that had happened not that long ago. Something to do with one of her fairies. And a tooth. And . . .

"PITCH!" Tooth yelled, erupting from the ground with a flurry of feathers. "Pitch! Baby Tooth! The tooth I punched! Oh gods, I'm such an idiot!"

She flew up and up, heading back to her private rooms, dodging her daughters and other Tooth Towers and platforms which were hanging from the ceiling. _I'm such an idiot. That tugging feeling I felt when I passed the room, the lack of pain when I turned to the right, _she dodged another one of her girls. _It all makes sense now! I knew I was on a Hunt, but I didn't know who's it was!_

Tooth made it to her treasure room in under ten minutes and when she threw the doors open and buzzed inside, the churning in her stomach instantly ceased. She felt a warm, healthy glow cover her cheeks and her hands were tingly.

"Great. Now all I've got to do is find that thing!" she muttered, landing on the glass floor and rummaging through her boxes of treasures.

The room around her was beautiful. Solid oak wood, just like her private room and glass floors too, but this room had a special air about it. It had that magical tingle and it always sent Tooth's feathers quivering with excitement whenever she went inside this room. It's ceiling was a glass mosaic that Tooth had found buried in the sand of the Mediterranean sea, off the coast of Egypt. She didn't remember why she'd taken it now, but she thought it had something to do with the great library of Alexandria being burned just a hundred miles away.

Tooth looked and looked, the feeling getting stronger and stronger with each handful of precious glass figurines and shiny glass frames, but after twenty minutes she sank down to her knees.

"Where is Baby Tooth when I need her?!" She cried, pounding the floor with her fists. "She's the one who put the wretched thing in here!"

Several years ago, Tooth had had some unpleasantness with the Boogeyman and had forcibly removed one of his teeth in retaliation. Namely, she'd punched him. The tooth had fallen to the ground and it wasn't until a month afterwards that Baby Tooth had come to her mother, saying that she was picking up a tooth on her radar that wasn't a child's.

Now, because so many adults lose teeth that aren't their baby ones, Toothiana had made a separate section of her towers just for adults. She'd categorized them by continent and, in the case of America and Asia, by country too. So She'd told Baby Tooth to put the tooth with it's owner's box. Baby tooth had said that this tooth didn't have a box.

"Are you sure?" Tooth said, picking up the tooth and scrutinizing it carefully. "Goodness, this man certainly never brushed! And- are those _points?_"

They had been indeed. Then the Tooth fairy had been dismayed to learn that the tooth wasn't a human's, but Pitch's!

_WhatdoIdowithit,mother? _Baby Tooth asked.

"Oh, I don't know." Tooth said, thinking that, even if it was a tooth, she really didn't want to see that thing ever again. "Go put it in my special cabinet." The special cabinet was for immortal's teeth. Jack had been housed there, and Sandy's. Her own teeth had also been put there, as well as the teeth of April Fool, the leprechaun, and even Aphrodite the goddess of love. Everyone's teeth was there.

Baby Tooth had done so and Tooth didn't pay it any mind for the longest time, until one of her fairies came across it several years later. She'd been disgusted to find it there and had asked if the tooth could be cleaned and put in the storage area, the place where all the teeth of dead children and adults were kept, below the towers. Tooth had agreed and, after being rigorously cleaned by Baby Tooth, the little fairy was about to put the tooth in storage, in a small golden cylinder with Pitch's face imprinted on it, when Tooth had stopped her.

She didn't know why she'd done it, but _something_ about that tooth had compelled her to put it in her own rooms. Something about the memories it held had affected her with their power and since they were Pitch's memories, that made her even more curious to see what kind of memories his tooth held. Happy ones? Sad ones? Undoubtedly both. Whatever the nature of those memories, they were the most potent and powerful memories she had ever cared for.

"Yeah, powerful. So powerful that it's taking me an age to find the darn things in a room full of memories." Tooth muttered, standing back up and beginning to look through a dresser drawer. Nothing but a few dozen charm bracelets. Their multi-colored gemstones sparkled in the reflective glass.

Several more minutes and still nothing. Then Tooth picked up a stack of books to move them out of the way and a small golden box that she hadn't seen came tumbling down from the top. It landed right in front of her and she eagerly scooped the box up, hoping that this was indeed the tooth she'd been looking for. The box was three inches square and was shaped like the cylinders where the regular teeth of the children of the world were kept. There was a slight humming emanating from the flat diamond-studded lid and Tooth felt her powers respond as a melodic singing filled her ears.

"OK," She said, putting her hand on the ornate lid with a familiar scowling, spiky-haired head against a backdrop of black stamped on it and slowly breathing in, then out. "Here we go."

XXXXXXXXXXX

The first thing Tooth saw when she opened her eyes was a thick bank of greyish-black fog. Dark, heavy stuff that you could barely see through. Her eyes were shrouded by the fog like when she had to shut eyes really tightly to concentrate on a tooth, then opened them in a flash when the location came to her. The few seconds of patterned blackness that covered her sight before fading away was exactly what this fog reminded her of.

Yes, the fog irritated her, but it didn't worry her. That was how all memory-hunts began; the memories hidden in the teeth struggling to re-arrange themselves into a presentable order that made sense to their viewer. As she waited patiently for the fog to recede she began to think about things. About how long it had been since she'd been on a memory-hunt, about what her last Hunt was. She couldn't remember the exact details, but she knew it had something to do with a lost dog. Memory-hunts were tricky things and she only remembered simple details. Never the names or the important things, just little generic things.

Tooth sighed, her mind trailing back to her past memory-hunts. It was always so simple. When a person was going through a really tough time, one of the only things that helped was happy memories. These memories could be accessed by the person in question and that typically worked for most humans- they remembered some good times, felt a bit better and soon they were back to their old selves, but on the odd occasion the human felt so badly that Tooth was called in to help out.

Her job was to find the person's tooth, touch the tooth and that would release the person's memories to them, totally immersing them in their own memories. On the rare occasions when Tooth was feeling curious about the memories she allowed herself to get sucked into the memory and had viewed it for herself. That had been a lot of fun. . . for a few decades. Memory-viewing took a lot of energy out of her and after six decades of doing this every year the memories had gotten too powerful and she had woken up with nosebleeds afterwards.

Tooth smiled fondly at the memories. Yes, even at the nosebleeds. They hadn't lasted long anyway. No more than a few hours.

"Good days." she murmured, coming back to the memory at hand. So far, this memory was dull and she couldn't see a thing besides the dark fog which wriggled like a living being, twisting and pressing against her like a cushion. It made her feel like she was being smothered as well as temporarily blind, but she knew it was just her imagination.

Soon Tooth got bored of standing in one place and started walking forward through the rapidly thinning fog. She walked and walked, wondering how long it wold take before she got tired and had to rest. Not for a good long while, she thought. Tooth had never been fond of walking, preferring to use her wings to get from A to B.

_Flying is an amazing feeling, _she thought happily as she walked. And it was, exhilarating, magical and even terrifying at times, but always amazing. It was why North always drove his sleigh, why Sandman made a dream-sand plane, and why Jack flew with the wind using his staff. It really was the most amazing, magical feeling. She didn't have a clue what Bunny had against it. Then again, he _was _a rabbit.

Thinking of flying when she couldn't was making her feel a bit down, so her mind turned to other things.

_I wonder if Baby Tooth is doing a good job with the teeth. She thought. Did I explain to her how to make a new tooth box? Probably. Did I explain what to do if a tooth with cavities comes in? Yes, I did. Does this fog ever end?_

_"Does_ this wretched fog ever end?" she grumbled aloud, pursing her lips. "I know that memories start out this way but-"

Tooth was so busy talking to herself and thinking about the tooth of Pitch's that she didn't realized that the fog- the magical fog anyway, had completely disappeared and that what she was walking through was now completely normal fog, gray and murky. In fact, she was so focused on her displeasure at the fog that she hadn't notice the dark street with dirty brick walls around her or the small noises in the background, cats and stray dogs and the like, until she banged her head into the dead end of the brick wall.

"OW!" Tooth yelled, stumbling backwards and landing on the hard dirt floor. "What the heck-" then she noticed the brick walls on either side of her and her fists closed around the short layer of dirt covering the asphalt lane. "Oh for the love of-" she grumbled, rubbing her head. There wasn't any pain, this being a memory, and there wasn't any bump either. All she could feel was a throbbing in her temple, which was just the chemicals released by her nerves that her mind translated into pain. It annoyed her greatly and she patted her head gingerly, waiting for the false pain to go away.

Tooth tried to stand but she slipped and landed on her feathery rear-end once more.

_"Stupid memories." _she grumbled. _"Always has to make me pop up in random places! Now I remember why I stopped doing these stupid Hunts, apart from the nose bleeds!"_

Tooth continued to grumble and gripe as she gripped the brick wall and pulled herself carefully up, then she leaned with her back against the wall gently, looking at the area around her. The fog blocked her view of the street in front of her and the street behind her was bricked up. A dead end.

"Well then what was the p-" Tooth started to ask crossly, then she stopped in mid-sentence. A writhing sensation was growing in her stomach. A sensation she knew well. A tugging in her gut and a slight bubbling of acid in her throat. She took a step forward. The tugging didn't intensify. She took a step back. The tugging nearly knocked her over.

"Forward it is then." Tooth muttered, talking several deep breaths and then heading into the normal bank of fog. She was a little apprehensive of this, but she knew that the memory was calling her that way. She had to go.

She went. The tugging lessened with each step she took and Tooth began to feel the familiar excitement of a Hunt in her heart. The tugging meant that she was getting closer to the reason for her being here, and that meant Pitch.

"I hope he's close," Tooth muttered, following the tugging feeling. "The longer I'm here, the more my wings hurt."

Since she'd been dropped into the memory-hunt her wings had been hanging limply on her back. This happened quite a lot during memory-hunts. Her wings were made of the same kind as dragonfly wings, and dragonfly wings weren't partial to water. Fog, magical or no, was nothing but evaporated water and that made her wings limper than wet tissue-paper. Having her wings soaked did not agree with Toothiana and she couldn't wait for them to shake off the fog's damp and return to their usual shining radiance.

She didn't know how long she walked, led by the tugging in her gut that let her know when the object of her Hunt was getting closer, and soon she saw the regular fog lightening as well. Several minutes later she began to see the tall, towering houses and old-fashioned lamp posts looming out of the fog. The houses were also old-fashioned looking. They had stone steps leading up to the fancy red doors with brass doorknobs and there was an occasional yard or lawn in the front with dark green grass and tulips.

Tooth hadn't the faintest clue where she was and the houses didn't help. All she saw were old tilting houses and iron lamp posts with yellow wax-candles burning in the glass cases at the top. If she didn't know better, she would've thought she was in London.

A large bell tolled and Tooth looked up. Big Ben was looming over the tiny houses, striking the hour. Twelve.

_Huh. So I am in London, _she thought, looking around. _I wonder what year._

She passed a closed newspaper stand and saw a bold title proclaiming it to be the second birthday of Queen Elizabeth the first.

_Ah. The middle of the fifteen hundreds.  
_

Tooth walked down another of London's many streets, wondering why on earth Pitch would be in London at this time. The scenery?

Tooth doubted it.

As if her thinking of him had brought him forth, Tooth saw a black shadow come out of an alleyway and begin to walk ahead of her with his hands laced behind his back. The shadow was wearing what looked like a long trench coat- or maybe a robe, and she could see a familiar head of silky black, porcupine-like hair sticking up on his head.

She knew that this could only be one person and she broke into a trot to catch up, which wasn't too hard. He was walking slowly, turning his head from side to side as if to savor the dark atmosphere around him.

"Hey Pitch! Long time, no see!" she said as she caught up to him and fell into step beside him. His face was the same as she remembered it; ashy, with a large hooked nose and flashing gold and silver eclipse eyes.

Of course he didn't respond. He couldn't see her or hear her. This was the typical response of the people she witnessed in memory-hunts. They couldn't see or hear a single thing.

"So," Tooth said, happily starting a steady one-sided conversation with Pitch. No, she wasn't insane from all the time she spent on her own. It was just that talking after a lengthy period of silence gave her quite a lot of relief. "What are you doing in London? I mean, I know there are kids here that have nightmares a lot, but I don't see any kids around here."

Pitch didn't reply. He just continued to walk forward, staring around him with his hands laced almost leisurely behind his back.

"So what's the rub?" Tooth demanded. "Taking a vacation, are we?"

Again, he ignored her.

Tooth stuck her tongue out. "OK fine, use the silent treatment on me. See if I care!" she puckered her lips in a pout and muttered, "I'll just see whatever you're doing anyway."

After about a minute, Pitch stopped in the shadow of a lamp post and stared at the house across the street. It was a fairly nice-looking house. Normal-sized. Painted brown. Two stories. There was a shop beside the house that looked like they were adjoined and Tooth read the name of the shop.

The Blackadder Bookshop.

"Huh. I didn't know you were a reader, Pitch." Tooth said with amusement.

Pitch ignored her and headed towards the shop, striding across the street and coming to a stop in front of it, staring with a creepy smile on is face.

"Um, I'm guessing there's a kid in there and that you're going to give them nightmares." Tooth said, looking from the Boogeyman and his weird grin to the house. There were two windows on the first floor and one on the second. No windows were visible on the second floor of the shop. Pitch's attention was focused on top window of the house, which she guessed was where the kid was. "Well, unless it's seriously important, I think I'll-"

Before she could finish, Pitch transformed into a cloud of Nightmare Sand and flew up to the windowsill, slipped under the small gap beneath that Tooth could just make out, and disappearing from view. She was about to sit down and wait for him when she felt a violent tugging in her gut. She groaned.

"Of course." she muttered, getting to her feet and heading across to the shop front. Her wings were dry by now, thankfully, and so she flapped them once to test their stability, then rose up to the windowsill where she could see Pitch leaning over a raised bed. Tooth took a deep breath and propelled herself through the window, phasing through like a ghost and solidifying on the other side. Tooth sighed in content. It felt good to be flying again.

She was seriously unhappy when she wasn't flying, but she was feeling a bit better now. Tooth flapped her wings once, then looked around the room she was in. Typical Elizabethan child's room. Small, bland. Brown wood, no paint. A desk, a shelf of books, a pile of clothes and a rack with several coats and hats hung on it. Then she turned her attention back to Pitch. He was still leaning over the bed with a predatory smile on his lips.

Tooth stayed where she was, appraising Pitch and the bed with mild amusement. "OK, Pitch," she said, smiling. "I know this is your duty, job, whatever and all... but do you _seriously_ have to look like _that_?"

Pitch ignored her and drew out a handful of Nightmare sand, blowing it on the person in the bed. Tooth still couldn't see what kind of kid it was. She expected a little boy in a big, white nightshirt.

"Let's see..." Pitch said, speaking for the first time since she'd entered this memory-hunt. Tooth blinked. He had a _british_ accent! That was hilarious! "What's your greatest fear, hm?"

"Since when did _you_ have a british accent?" Tooth demanded, staring at Pitch with an amused look on her face.

Pitch ignored her, keeping his attention on the person in the bed. "Ah, I see." he said, looking at the person in the bed for a few minutes. "Well, you know what they say. The best way to face a fear," Pitch pulled out another handful of Nightmare sand and blew it over the lump that Tooth assumed was the child's head. "Is to imagine yourself doing it."

A small, black orb formed over the boy's head and Tooth could see a figure inside the orb. It was tiny, so she decided to go a bit closer. Just to take a look. She hovered several inches above the floor and propelled herself gently forward a foot or two. Then she stopped and her feet alighted on the floor of the bedroom.

"OK, so I'm watching a nightmare." Tooth said, just to make sure. "The nightmare of-" she broke off, stunned. Inside the nightmare orb was the figure of an adult man, barely twenty years old she thought, standing on a raised platform with a noose around his neck.

"That's... not good." Tooth murmured. "Um, Pitch? Shouldn't you go easy on the kid?"

The kid in question groaned and turned in his bed. Tooth blinked. He had an unusually deep voice for a kid. Pitch smiled and began to coax the nightmare. Not a horse, but a black orb forming above the boy's head. Tooth bit her lip. The child was obviously having a nightmare about his older brother dying. To pick on a poor, defenseless kid like that with an obvious fear was just an act of cruelty, plain and simple.

"Pitch, after this I am never going to be able to see you without punching you at least once." the Tooth Fairy vowed, closing her eyes for just a second to black out the anger that was blossoming in her chest.

Pitch continued to croon and coax the nightmare. The orb grew bigger and bigger and the young man inside looked up stoically. There was a hooded man with his hand on a lever that brought the young man down and Tooth looked in horror as the young man fell. The noose dissipated and surrounding platform disappeared too, to be replaced by a craggy cliff that was running past him because he was falling so fast. He looked petrified.

Tooth sighed. This was a cruel nightmare, even for Pitch. He was standing there, with that sick smile on his face, and Tooth felt the powerful urge to punch him. The kid in the bed was grunting and groaning. The young man in the nightmare began to scream as he fell down the cliff-side. He tried to slow his fall by grabbing on to one of the crags in the cliff, but the sand or stone or whatever it was obviously sharp and it serrated the man's hands, drawing lots of blood and slicing through his hands and almost down to the bone! The man screamed in agony and Tooth gasped in horror.

"Oh!" she gasped, staring with undisguised horror at the bloody man and the groaning child in the bed. "Pitch! How could you?!"

Pitch was cackling with mad glee. "There. That's the way, boy! Face the fear of being dashed against razor-sharp rocks."

The young man just kept falling, falling, falling. Tooth thought he would wake up soon and so she forced herself to be calm. "He's going to be alright. You don't really die in a-"

There was a resounding crack and the young man in the nightmare fell violently against the sandy rocks. Tooth caught her breath, staring in utter horror. His legs were splayed out in right angles and his eyes were filled with terror. Blood was seeping from beneath him and pouring from a huge crack in his skull. He was gasping and silently begging for something, but she couldn't hear him. It made her heart almost break to see his groaning, moaning and crying in real life and laying bleeding on the ground in his nightmares.

Pitch smiled. "There. A job well-"

A blinding light erupted from beneath the blankets of the child in the bed. Both Tooth and Pitch let out a cry and staggered back with their hands over their eyes.

Tooth heard Pitch scream and she wondered what was happening. White light? She kept her eyes covered for at least five minutes, then she heard a strange, melodic humming that was distantly familiar and she couldn't help herself. She slowly, carefully, uncovered her eyes and what she saw made her jaw drop.

The room was filled with a watery, blinding white light that was reflected around the room off of shiny surfaces and the mirror above the child's desk. Tooth could see other colors too, light reds and oranges and blues, cascading all around the room like miniature rainbows. Tooth thought she could even hear tiny voices echoing around the room, singing and laughing.

"Singing?" Tooth whispered, looking around. She couldn't see anyone else but her and Pitch, who had also let his fingers drop and was staring at the bed with a slack-jawed look.

"Pitch, what is going-" Tooth demanded, but she was cut short again. There was a sucking sound, like water being pulled down a bathtub drain, and the white light was pulled back into the figure on the bed. The singing disappeared. The rainbow too. All light ceased and Tooth heard Pitch let out a sigh of relief. Obviously he preferred the dark and dank.

"What...the...heck-" Tooth stared at the bed with straight confusion. "What the heck-"

"Well, _now_ ya gone and done it." a deep, male voice said from behind Tooth and Pitch.

They both whirled around and Pitch summoned a orb of nightmare sand in his palm. Tooth let out a squeak and flew back a few feet until she was right beside Pitch. There was a dark, hulking figure blotting out the moonlight that had been streaming in through the window. Tooth could see a cloak with two red dots in the deep recesses of the hood. She could also see a long stick, clutched in bony hands with a sharp, shining blade connected to the top by a silver skeletal hand.

Grimm.

"Grimm!" Tooth almost shrieked, glaring at the Grimm Reaper. There he was, black wings folded behind him, scythe hanging loosely in his hand. The red pinpricks that were his eyes glittered with... what was it? Tooth wasn't sure. It was hard to tell the emotions of a hooded person with no visible eyes, save two red lights. Amusement? Malice? Hate? No, nothing like that.

"Who are you?" Pitch asked, raising his hand with the nightmare sand. "Speak!"

Grimm let out a deep, rolling laugh. It sounded like a thunder-clap or a drum-beat. Loud, booming, but filled with no mirth at all. Tooth shuddered. It was laughs like this that really freaked her out. Actually, the Reaper in general freaked her out. He had no face, he had no eyes, and- (and this was the most frightening thing she'd ever experienced,) he didn't have any teeth or memories. She never found his teeth and he claimed to never have been mortal like the rest of them.

"Ya do not scare me, little shadow." Grim's deep voice said, laced slightly with his Jamaican accent.

"No?" Pitch replied. "I am the Nightmare King! Lord of darkness, king of-"

"Ya are a sneaking, weak shadow who hides under da beds a' children." Grimm interrupted, his accent becoming a bit more pronounced. "Ya are nothing but a second-rate fear spirit."

"Watch what you say, spirit." Pitch hissed. "I can look into the very hearts and minds of every being, man, woman, animal and spirit, in the world and use their worst fears against them!"

Grimm laughed again. "Sure ya can. Just try dat wit me. I dare ya."

Pitch smiled, showing his yellow, filed teeth. "Alright. I'm warning you, I won't be merciful."

Tooth imagined Grimm smiling beneath his hood. "Very well. Go ahead."

Pitch smiled his most terrifying smile and then closed his eyes, lowering the hand with the nightmare ball and taking in a deep breath.

Tooth blinked, wondering what would happen. Of course, she knew that Grimm wouldn't have any fears. He was the Grimm Reaper, after all. What was more scary that that?

_Aphrodite on a bad hair day, _her subconscious said. She laughed. "True." then she looked back at Pitch. His body was outlined in black, throbbing lights and he was slightly vibrating on the spot. Tooth was faintly surprised.

"So _that's _how he sees your fears." Tooth whispered. "He closes his eyes and- but why the vibrating?"

Pitch continued to vibrate and the black lights around him began to throb more violently. Tooth took a step to the side, away from Pitch and started looking a little worried. What was-

Then Pitch's eyes shot open and he staggered back as if a giant hand had punched him in the stomach. Tooth blinked. "Ummm, OK."

"Well, what did ya see?" Grimm asked. There was a note of humor in his voice.

Pitch still had his hands clasped over his heart and he was breathing hard. Tooth had never seen him like this! He looked seriously rattled. Shocked, even. It was surprising, to say the least.

"I-" Pitch said haltingly. He was obviously having trouble getting his breath back, even though she was positive he couldn't really breath. The act of inhaling and exhaling was second-nature to most spirits. "I...couldn't- I couldn't see you're-"

"My fears?" Grimm replied. Tooth imagined him smiling again. "Yes, b'cause dere aren't any."

Pitch's eyes widened. "No- no fear? But...but everything has fear!" he was babbling now. Tooth thought he sounded a bit hysterical.

"Not when ya are fear itself." Grimm replied, smiling.

Pitch's eyes widened even farther and Tooth smiled. Grimm was just blustering. Pitch's area was fear, but Grimm's was death. The most feared thing on the planet. Every human being on the face of the planet fears dying in one way of another.

"You-" Pitch sounded like there was something clutching his throat.

"I am not fear, true, dat is your department." Grimm said, echoing her thoughts almost exactly. "but I am da ting feared by all on dis planet."

Tooth chuckled. What a grand-stander.

"What _are_ you?" Pitch asked. He had his usual voice back. Silky-smooth, but cautious. He didn't know who Grimm was, obviously. _This must be in his early years, _Tooth thought. _Before he met with the rest of the spirit world and made all of his current enemies._

"My name is Thanatos, but most people call me da Grimm Reaper." Grimm replied evenly.

Pitch blinked. "The Reaper?"

"Indeed." Grimm said.

"Aaaaaand, you have a Jamaican accent...why?"

Tooth sniggered. "I asked him that too," she said, smirking. "But he didn't answer me."

Grimm shrugged. Tooth saw his black, raven wings raise and then lower. "I have no idea." he admitted. "Why do you speak like a stuffy british librarian?"

Tooth laughed openly. "He he hahaha ha! Nice one Grimm." In her opinion, Pitch's current accent was a bit prissy. This must be why she'd never heard him speak with it.

Pitch opened his mouth to reply, then he thought better of it. "Touche." he said, inclining his head. "Now, would you please explain to me why you are here?"

Grimm turned his hood slightly.

Pitch turned around to see what Grimm was looking at. Tooth turned too. The only thing that was over there was the person in the bed.

"I don't understand." Pitch said.

"Don'choo?" Grimm said, turning back to Pitch.

"No," Pitch said firmly. "I don't know what you are talking about."

Grimm tutted and Tooth saw Pitch take a step back as he glided forward. "Pitch- dat is your name, inddint it?"

Pitch nodded mutely.

"Well Pitch, it is very simple." Grimm was at the human's bed now. Tooth flew over beside Pitch as the Boogeyman turned around to stare at the Reaper.

Grimm picked up his scythe and leaned over the boy. Tooth could make out his heavy wings folded against his back and she wondered what Grimm was going to do. Just why was he here? It wasn't like the boy was-

Tooth's eyes widened and she sucked in a horrified breath. "Oh no." she whispered, staring transfixed at the bed. _Oh no, oh no no no no no no NO!_

The Reaper tilted his scythe down towards the boy's blanket and hooked it with the blade. He slowly slid it back and beneath the thick woolen blanket-

"_What_-?" Pitch choked, staring at the bed. Evidently, he was as surprised at Tooth was.

"Dead." Grimm said, shrugging the blanket off of his scythe and gliding back to the window, away from the bed.

"How?" Pitch demanded, turning around with confusion and a little bit of anger on his face.

Tooth stayed where she was, just staring at the young man in the bed. His face was twisted in fear. His legs were splayed in the exact same position they'd been in the nightmare. His hair was shock-white.

Grimm turned away from Pitch and Tooth. His wings rose and stretched a few inches, then they settled back in their folds.

Tooth turned away. She couldn't look at the body any more.

"HOW?!" Pitch demanded, striding over and reaching for Grimm's shoulder. Grimm turned around so fast that Pitch shirked back and Tooth flinched.

"You." Grimm said coldly. "You killed him."


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey guys, glad to see you again! I know, I know I haven't been updating this one as much as I should, but I promise that once I get the Boogeyman over with, I'll focus on my other stories. Writer's word of honor, no virtually crossed fingers.**

**Oh, now I have to do that whole disclaimer deal. Yeah, yeah, I don't own Rotg. You have to rub it in?**

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"Ok, try again." Pitch said after the fifth time Anna hadn't been able to get out of a wall.

"Ugh! This is so hard!" she whined. The front of her head was poking out like a party mask on the wall and the rest of her was inside the wall.

"I know, but soon you'll be able to do it in no time." Pitch said encouragingly. "Think how well your flying has improved!"

Anna rolled her eyes. "Just pull me out. I need a break." she muttered.

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**Mwuhahahah! I bet you guys thought that I would go straight to Tooth again, Eh? **

**Well, I would, but I've kind of lost my train of thought for that piece. I swear I'll have the next chapter of Tooth in the vision by the end of the week.**

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Pitch sighed and nodded, yanking on the cord of Nightmare sand that he had made reappear around her wrist after the first cord was broken. Anna gave a yelp as she was pulled out of the wall and came stumbling towards him. He put out a hand and gently stopped her and she nodded grateful before flopping down on his cot.

"Man this is hard work!" she said, absentmindedly fiddling with a piece of metal. Pitch nodded and sat down beside her.

"Anna, being dead isn't all sunshine and rainbows." Pitch said, smiling. "It's actually a lot of work. Trust me, I've met plenty of dead. Just because you've got an abnormally fast access to your powers, doesn't mean you can use them all correctly. I'm still wondering how you can do that, by the way." he added, turning to look at her.

She slugged him gently on the arm and smirked. "Hey, I'm just that amazing." she said, waving her hand dramatically.

After learning the extent of her powers, Pitch had decided to keep his promise of teaching Anna how to control her powers. She had shown a measurably good skill with flying, but her ability to phase through walls and use her own energy to affect physical things around her was slight at best and often resulted in getting her hands stuck in wrenches or bolts she'd tried to pick up. Luckily, Pitch knew how to get them out and had helped her whenever she'd needed it by using Nightmare sand to phase through her hand and yank them out.

In this way and, using several trials, they had learned that Anna's solidity had limits. She seemed to only be able to touch Pitch and certain objects around her, objects she'd touched in her life. This severely limited her mobility, but she managed. Pitch had explained to her about the deathly laws, the laws set down by the Grim Reaper that all ghosts had to follow, one of them being you can only touch spirits and things you touched in life. The same rule applied to ground you've stepped on, seats you've sat in, etc etc. It was a weird law, but a useful one. It meant that Anna, instead of using all of her energy to fly, could walk around her house without sinking into the ground, like she did when she tried to go anywhere she hadn't in life.

First, they'd practiced her flying. Pitch had automatically seen her talent and they'd swiftly moved on to haunting, the ability to focus your energy and manipulate your surroundings. This was a skill Pitch excelled at, but Anna failed quite miserably at. Pitch had told her good job and that they would try again later, and now they were working on the powers of phasing and teleporting. Apparently, the fancy pop-up job Anna had done had taken all the week Pitch had been out to prepare and she was getting slowly better. Very, very slowly.

"So," Anna said, turning to look at him. "How many powers do I have?"

Pitch shrugged. "I have no idea. Most ghosts have a few powers and drift from place to place, forgetting who they are and what they were brought here to do. I've heard of a couple that have more powers than the normal flying and Haunting, like the glowing and the spooking, but I really don't know for certain."

Ana smiled. "I can't wait to spook some poor mortal." she said, rubbing her hands together.

"Human." Pitch corrected. "There's a difference."

Anna shrugged and slugged him on the arm again. "So, genius," she said while Pitch was rubbing his arm and wincing. She hit hard! "What are we going to do once you have your strength back? I don't think your caves are an option."

Pitch shrugged. "I don't know that either." he admitted. "but yes, the caves are out of the question. And it will take some time for me to regain my powers, so I suggest we focus on you for the time being."

Anna moaned. "Blah." she said. "I'm tired, Pitch!"

Pitch gave her a look. "Anna, being tired is a faculty for the living." he said firmly. "Just like sleeping and eating and breathing. You'll soon get over it. _And then I won't have a minute's rest._" Pitch muttered under his breath.

"Say that again?" Anna asked sweetly.

"I said, and then you'll be the best!" Pitch said without missing a beat. He smiled at her. It was a gentle, proud and slightly parental smile. "Really Anna, you're doing fine." he said, putting an arm around her. "Much better than I would've hoped. We just have to get that Haunting up and running and get you properly phasing. You'll be a great ghost."

"And then I can help you I case the Guardians find you and try to hurt you!" Anna said happily, jabbing at the air with her right fist. "Ha! Hya! I'll knock their lights out!"

Pitch turned to her and said, in a voice of deathly calm, "Anna, I don't want you going near those Guardians. They're thick-headed fools and, if they see a ghost with me they'll jump to the conclusion that Grim is helping me, which he is. Then they'll start fighting among themselves and I won't get a chance to clear my name. In short, if they do come looking for me, I want you to fade, run, or do anything you can to make sure they don't see you. Don't talk to them or fight them or anything. North may be Santa Clause, but he's probably dispatched more ghosts in his day than cookies."

Anna listened to this little speech silently. Then, when he was done, she nodded solemnly. "I promise." she said.

Pitch nodded. "Good."

"But if they capture you, I will come and get you out." she said firmly and Pitch didn't argue. If the Guardians did catch him, there wouldn't be time for Anna to break him out.

XXXXXXXXX

Several hours later, Pitch had _allowed_ Anna to stop for the day and Anna had _allowed_ Pitch to follow her upstairs for a bit. The stuffy garage/basement was not ideal living conditions and Pitch needed fear to keep himself alive, so Anna had said they could wait until dark, then go out to the houses of certain children who had teased her in school because of her condition and because of how weak she was.

One girl had even _hit_ her and Anna had spent a year in the hospital because of it. Her parents had tried to get the child put in juvenile hall for her assault, but the girl had been ten years old and from a richy family who was friends with the judge who tried the case. Nothing had happened and eight-year-old Anna had lived in a hospital, not knowing if she would live or die, for a eleven months until her parents had been allowed to take her home. Needless to say, Pitch had not been pleased when he'd found this out.

"You mean this girl," Pitch said slowly as they both hovered over the bed of Elisha Martino, the perpetrator of Anna's injury all those years ago, "this fifteen and a half year old girl, beat you up when you were _eight years __**old?!**_" He was seething and almost itching to release a powerful nightmare on this girl as soon as possible.

"I was eight, she was ten." Anna said, staring down at the sleeping Elisha. She had black hair that was greasy and tangled from tossing and turning in her sleep.

"Still, two years." Pitch said, looking at the child with disgust. "She was two _years_ older than you and you had a life-threatening heart condition!"

"It wasn't life-threatening until a year ago and all she did was knock me around a bit." Anna said dismissively. "Now can we get to the Haunting? I'm getting antsy being out in the open like this."

Pitch nodded, making a mental note to ask her about this later. From how passionately her parents had argued her case, it had been much more than _being knocked around a bit_. "Alright." he said, summoning a handful of nightmare sand and giving the girl a quick nightmare that would leave her sweating and wishing she could call for her mommy and daddy, but she would be unable to open her door or call to anyone. He would give her the worst nightmare any human girl ever had. The one where you couldn't wake up, because you're already awake.

He started with something small, the girl's fear of heights. A completely irrational fear, in his opinion. Now, the fear of _falling_, that was something different altogether. _That_ was a sane and sensible fear that should be encouraged. First he had her falling from a cliff, keeping her falling just long enough to freak her out but not to kill her. He'd learned his lesson about killing children, though technically this girl was not a child anymore, being over thirteen.

After she fell, he escalated her fear into a near-panic. She was screaming in her sleep and, just as he senses she was about to reach her breaking point, he snapped his fingers and the girl sat bolt-upright in bed, screaming with her eyes wide open. She screamed for a while and, when she finally realized that it was nothing more than a Nightmare, she let out a relieved sigh and said those exact words. "Whew. Just a stupid Nightmare." and then fell back against her black pillow.

Pitch smiled evilly and raised his hand for a count down. Five, four, three, two, one. "You're cue." he said. "Show me your best."

Anna smiled evilly and let out a bone-chilling wail, then a low moan. "_Eliiiiiiii-shhhhhaaaaa_!" Anna moaned, allowing herself to drift over to Elisha's bed and bend down until she was right in her ear.

Pitch sniggered as the girl sat bolt-upright again and stared where Anna was floating an inch above the floor. She still couldn't see her, because Anna hadn't allowed herself to be come visible yet.

"W- who's there?" Elisha said in a squeaky voice, clutching the covers.

"Meeee,_ Eliiiiiiiishaaaaa_." Anna moaned, floating over to the foot of Elisha's bed, jumping up and sitting down on it with her legs crossed. She smiled and waved her hand. The shutters that were open and letting the moonlight shut with a sharp crack and the girl scurried back under her covers with a shrill, "Go away!" hysteria laced her words and Pitch found himself silently applauding.

"Oh, but I can't go away." Anna said, smirking. Her young face was beginning to deteriorate. Whither by her own efforts or from tiredness, Pitch wasn't sure. Bits of skin were floating off her cheeks, revealing bone and flesh beneath. "Not just yet. _Eliiiiiiii-shaaaaa, Eliiiiiiii-shaaaaaaaaaa!_"

Elisha started to cry. "W- w- who are you? W-what do you want?!"

"Look at me,_ Elishaaaaa_." Anna said, nudging her with her foot slightly.

Elisha peeked over her covers and, when she saw a young girl, about eight years old in a pair of ragged jeans and a baggy green sweatshirt sitting cross-legged on the edge of her bed and giving her a cold look, she found herself unable to breath. Terror crept up her throat and she just stared dumbly at the girl. Her eyes were blackened severely and her face was pale. She did not look happy, and yet she was smiling. No, not smiling Elisha realized. Grinning. Her eyes widened and she gulped. Oh god, this was a _ghost_!

"Ah, so you see me." Anna said, affecting a spooky voice that certainly did not belong to a little girl, but Pitch could see it was working from the shaking of Elisha's shoulders. It was good work so far, something definitely worthy of a disciple of the Nightmare King. The deteriorating skin was especially good. Pitch decided to take a seat on the girl's swivel-chair and watch more closely.

The girl nodded slowly. She was obviously petrified. Pitch could hear her fearful thoughts whirling around in her head. _Is she going to kill me? Is she going to hurt me? Who is she?_

"Good." Anna said, making him pull out of the girl's mind and focus back on what was currently happening. "Now, sit up!" with her words, Anna waved her hands and the girl's covers were yanked off of her and thrown to the floor. Underneath, she wore a baggy T shirt and a pair of fuzzy pajama bottoms with an orange cat all over them. Pitch snorted. The girl was a typical teenager.

"Please," Elisha said, staring at her with wide, terrified eyes. Pitch could smell the intoxicating fear coming off of her in waves and he ate it up, steadily at first, then ravenously. He hadn't tasted proper fear in a long time and he had to move back a little bit to keep himself from going overboard. "Please, whoever you are, little girl, please leave me alone!" she whispered.

"Now, Elisha, why would I do that?" Anna asked, allowing her form to flicker. _Nice touch, _Pitch thought as he felt the girl's fear crank up a notch. Pitch smiled and allowed himself to tap into her fear, diverting it to him and returning some of his strength. The girl's fear was sky-rocketing with each word Anna spoke and she must've sensed this, because her next words sent the girl's fear down a few notches to be replaced by confusion. Pitch rolled his eyes. He knew that Anna had to keep her fear on an even level, just to make sure she didn't die, but in all honesty, he didn't care if she did die of fright. She deserved it for what she'd done to Anna.

"We used to be such good friends!" Anna said, leaning forward with an innocent smile on her face.

"F-friends?" Elisha repeated, looking confused for a second. Her fat face scrunched together and she pursed her lips. "I d-don't-"

"You remember." Anna said, detaching her normal form for a second and leaving the child staring at Elisha coldly to glance at Pitch. "Your cue, Booger. Give her a quick Nightmare about me!"

Pitch folded his arms. Apart from being called 'booger' he didn't have the power to attempt that kind of nightmare crafting yet. Plus the obvious problem. "She's awake. I can't." He stated plainly.

Anna rolled her eyes. "Thanks for leaving me high and dry here, _jerk_." she muttered, then she pushed herself back into her glamor-body. "Cast your mind back," she said, speaking to Elisha. "To when we both were children." she leaned closer to the terrified girl. "Remember this face, this hair, this smile, these clothes." she paused and put a hand on her own heart, pushing through her glamor's skin and pulling out a weakly beating human heart. It glowed softly and with each beat, the heart glowed less brightly. "Remember this heart that you nearly made stop."

Pitch folded his arms. He had to admit, he was severely impressed. Not only was she inspiring fear in this girl, but she was doing it with class and style. The little details like her greasy hair and bruised eyes were good too. Anna was definitely making the most out of being a ghost.

"I- I don't remember you! I'm sorry!" Elisha begged, putting her hands together in case it would placate the angry spirit of the little girl. "Please, tell me! Who are you and what do you want with me?"

"My name is Illana, Elisha." Anna said, smiling evilly, showing sharp teeth. "And the only thing I want from you is your fantastic, delicious _FEAR_!" she howled the last word like a primordial beast and lunged for the girl, but the girl dove for the other side of the bed and fell to the ground in a terrified heap. She scrambled for the door and Pitch switched the lock with a lazy flick of his nightmare sand. Elisha hammered on the door and screamed, but Pitch had protected her room to keep the sound silent and her parents away and not spoil the fun.

"They can't help you," Anna said, floating above the floor and over the bed until she was on the same side, staring straight at Elisha. "No one can help you, Elisha. Just like no one helped me when you hurt me."

Elisha turned around and backed herself up against the wall. "Please, don't hurt me Illana!" she begged, utterly petrified by the angry ghost who had her at her mercy. "Please! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to give you those black eyes! I was a kid, a stupid bully! I won't ever do it again!"

Pitch's eyes widened. "You mean she really gave you those black eyes?" he demanded, standing up and glaring at the teenager sniveling and cowering against the door.

"Yep. And a couple of broken ribs and a bruised sternum, according to the doctor." Anna said, peeling out again and staring at him. "It hurt like hell and we were very lucky the ribs didn't puncture anything.

Pitch felt his eyes blaze and his body quivering with indignation. "And they just let this girl get away with it?!" he spat, glaring down at her. How could this be?! Didn't people try to protect young children from abuse like that?!

"Oh yeah. Human justice sucks." Anna said, then she slipped back into her glamor-body and bent down until she was on level with Elisha. "Elisha, you hurt me. You could've killed me."

"I didn't mean to!" she sniveled.

"I know, but you did. I spent a year of my life in a hospital because of you, and I could do the same-"

"Uh, no, actually. You can't physically hurt her." Pitch interrupted, then he realized that he was defending Anna's attacker and he said quickly, "But you can scare her as much as you like."

Anna's head rotated until her face was sticking out of the greasy hair of her eight-year-old self. "Shut up!" she hissed, then she rotated her head again until she was back in her glamor-body. "-to you." Elisha's eyes went wide and she opened her mouth again to beg, but Anna cut her off before she'd even spoke a syllable. "I could," she said, leaning close. "But I won't."

At first, Elisha's face had confusion written on it. Then, as understanding filtered in that she wasn't going to die, her blotchy face broke into a relieved smile. Pitch could still see that she was terrified, but at least she thought she was going to live. "Oh thank you! _Thank you!_" Elisha said. Pitch could hear her fears slowly dissipating as she realized that she wasn't going to die.

_Pity,_ he thought snidely.

Anna stared at the girl coldly, without pity in her eyes. "But, if I am to leave you in peace, there is one thing you must do for me." she said.

"N-name it!" Elisha said, obviously relieved to be spared but still apprehensive about the ghost's last wishes. Pitch could feel her fears returning to cloud her mind like so many butterflies. He leaned in, wondering what her play was. They hadn't discussed this on the flight over.

"I want you. . ." Anna began, smiling her horrid smile again, to make sure Elisha got the message. "To go to my funeral. I want you to tell my parents how sorry you are, and I want you to _mean_ it." she said, emphasizing her words by turning down the temperature drastically. "I want your parents to donate five thousand dollars to pay for my funeral and if they don't, if _you_ don't," Anna backed her up against the door again and leaned in until they were nose to nose. "I... will... be... _BACK_!" Pitch saw that Anna was creating insects in her mouth and allowing them to crawl out of her mouth, making insect noises and crawling around like you'd find in a corpse.

"I'll do it! I'll do it, I swear!" Elisha said, closing her eyes and turning her head away, shuddering at the corpse-like ghost that was now in front of her. The fear was back and it was more plentiful than ever. Pitch could feel it, coursing through her veins and he walked almost as close as Anna to feed on it like an emotional vampire.

Anna pulled her head away from the girl's face and said, "Remember, five thousand dollars." Then she must've had another thought because her eyes brightened and she leaned in again, this time putting her hand out and bracing her arm against the door. "And I want you to say something at my funeral. Something about me. Something kind."

Elisha squeezed her eyes shut again and turned her face to the side, disgusted and terrified of the insects in the girl's rotten mouth. "Whatever you want! I promise!" she squeaked.

Anna nodded and pulled back. "Good. Because if you don't, I'm going to haunt your family line for as long at it exists. And Elisha," she said, catching Elisha's slowly opening eyes as she turned to go. "I _do_ mean it."

Elisha bobbed her head up and down furiously. "I understand. I'll get them to give your parents the money. I swear on my grave!" then she winced. "Oh, sorry." she said, almost apologetically.

"Swear on _my_ grave instead," Anna said, laughing and fading into the wall backwards. "I'll be watching. Oh, and Elisha. . . this is our little secret."

Elisha nodded furiously again and the last thing she saw of the little girl was a finger against her lips and a pair of shining child's eyes, daring her to disobey. When the ghost left, Elisha immediately turned around and flung the door open with a strangled cry, taking off down the stairs and Pitch heard the sounds of tripping, stumbling and screaming as the girl fell down the stairs to the main house and to the light.

Pitch watched her run and smiled as Anna came flying back into the room. "Oh my gosh, that was great!" she chortled.

"I have to agree, that was rather good." Pitch said. "I enjoyed the bugs on your breath."

Anna turned a loop-d-loop in the air. "Yep! I remembered that from the live action Grinch Stole Christmas and decided to do it because I thought it would be cool." She smiled. "And I thought it would scare the living daylights out of her." she said. "Speaking of which, how are you feeling?" she asked, punching him on the shoulder lightly.

"Better than ever." Pitch said honestly. "You did an excellent job."

Anna beamed and Pitch noticed she was glowing slightly. "Um, Anna? You're Bio-luminescence is showing." Pitch said.

Anna gasped and looked down. "It is?" then she realized Pitch was just telling her she was glowing and she looked up at him, giving him a glare. "Oh you." she said, giving him another punch. "Not funny."

"It was from my perspective." Pitch said, chuckling. "Now, let's get out of here. I really don't want to run into Sanderson or any of the other spirits that pay nightly visits to the children of the world.

"OK." she said, nodding. Was it Pitch's imagination or was she floating a little closer to the ground than normal? "That Haunting actually wore me out." And so saying, she fell to the floor, out cold.

Pitch just stood there, staring at the unconscious ghost for about ten seconds, then he snapped into action. He ran over to her side and dropped to his knees. "Anna?" he said, grabbing her shoulder and shaking her frantically. "Anna!"

Anna didn't respond and Pitch tried to shake her awake again, but with no success. He rolled his eyes. "OK, maybe I was wrong." he admitted through gritted teeth. "Ghosts _can_ get tired." he sighed and looked down at her. Her mouth was open and rather loud snored were coming from it. He smirked and closed her mouth with a thin, gray hand. Her mouth just flopped back open again and the snores continued. Pitch rolled his eyes.

"Am I seriously going to have to carry her all the way back to my lair?" he asked the ceiling, staring up as if there were some kind of vast cosmic force that could provide an answer for him. There was, but he wasn't feeling particularly talkative this night.

Pitch recognized the silence as by way of an answer and e groaned, muttered several cursed, then, with a momentous effort, pushed his hands beneath Anna's body and picked her up slowly and steadily. For a ghost, she was heavy!

When he straightened up he glared at her sleeping face and momentarily thought about dropping her, just to see what would happen- this was the Fearlings in him talking, of course. Anyone with a doctorate of physics, or who has just read the Everlost series, knows that if you take a ghost and drop it from even a small height, then can sink all the way to the bottom of the earth. Not pleasant. -but in the instant he thought this Anna opened one eye and blearily said, "Daddy."

Pitch's heart melted like butter and, with a silent growl that she was going to owe him for this, headed back to her house with the sleeping ghost in his arms.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello ladies and gentlemen! I am back! Bow down before me!**

**(Awkward silence, during which someone throws a bottle.)**

**HEY!**

**...OK, maybe I deserved that. Look, I know it's been a week, but in my own defense it turns out I'm not as exempt from school as I like to think. I indeed have to start my homeschooling up again and that means a regular update schedual change. It's Saturday now, got it? Sa...Tur...Daaaaay.**

**I'm kidding, I love all of you, especially the wonderful The One Named Moonlight. She has been a loyal supported of this fic forever so give her a hand and then conk her on the head so that I can see what she has next for The Darkness Isn't All Bad! MWUHAHAHA!**

**You should really feel honored Moony, I never do this unless I think the writer has immense talent. Drago, Star and Fanty can attest to this.**

**OK, now with Moony out cold- HEY! QUIT DROOLING ON MY CARPET! -I can now allow you to read my story. Have fun, and BIG BOOKS!**

* * *

"You. You killed him."

Both Tooth and Pitch didn't speak. Tooth was trying to keep herself calm and not force her way out of the Hunt, just to find the real Boogeyman and beat him to a bloody pulp.

_HOW COULD HE HAVE DONE THAT?! _She thought furiously, trying to stop herself from shaking. Emotions, a mix of fury and utter sadness, whirled in her heart and mind and she began to pace back and forth to stop herself from blowing up. How could Pitch have done something like this?! _HOW_?!

"You just don't kill people whenever you feel like it!" Tooth snarled as she passed Pitch. He was staring at Grim with a look of utter horror on his face. She paused the bed again and her face was illuminated by the white light streaming in from the window that Grim had previously blocked out with his wings.

"Why didn't you do anything to stop this?!" she demanded, stopping in front of the window and glaring up at the moon. "Why?! _Why_ didn't you get up off your lunar ass and _help_ this boy?!"

The man in the moon made no answer, as she knew he wouldn't, and the turned away from the window in disgust.

"No, that's right. You just sit up there, watching don't you? Just watching, never helping." Tooth spat angrily. She had no idea why she was suddenly angry, but she was, and she could barely contain it. Her rage, at Pitch for doing such a cruel thing, at the moon for not preventing it, at Grim for- well, she didn't really know what she was mad at Grim for, but she was!

"Stupid spirits." She muttered, stalking back over to the boy's bed and staring hatefully at Pitch. Doing such a horrible thing was over the top, even for him!

_But he didn't know, _a small voice inside Tooth's head told her earnestly. _You saw the look on his face. Look at him now! He's terrified! He didn't know, Tooth._

"Shut up!" Tooth told herself, even though she knew that there was an absolute truth in the voice's words.

Pitch had started talking again. Tooth thought she should listen.

"H- how?" Pitch was asking Grim. Tooth frowned. There was a strange note in his voice that Tooth tried to identify. Was it sadness? Remorse? Anguish?

"How else?" Grim asked coldly. There was steel in his voice and both spirits heard it. "Da nightmare."

Tooth and Pitch both blinked, Pitch momentarily distracted from the crime he had committed and Tooth surprised enough to look straight at Grim.

"The-" they both began to ask with the same note of confusion in their voices.

"Yes, da nightmare." Tooth heard the anger in his voice now. She could see Pitch visibly flinch and she almost flinched herself, but she steeled herself and held her ground, telling herself it was just a memory. Just a memory.

"But- but you can't die in a nightmare!" Pitch stuttered, obviously shaken by Grim's words. Tooth glanced at him and realized, with a jolt, that Pitch was actually looking _sorry_. More than that! His eyes were wide, his body was tense and he looked like his worst fears had been realized. Tooth felt herself swell slightly with satisfaction. At least he felt properly ashamed and penitent for what he'd done. "It's just a bad dream!" Pitch shouted desperately, his wide eclipse eyes never leaving Grim.

Grim laughed. It was cold and echoy and both spirits flinched. Pitch even took a step back. "_Just a bad dream?_" he repeated. Tooth could feel the malice emanating from the eyes beneath that hood. Grim laughed again. _"_Dat's rich, coming from da king of dos said 'bad dreams'." he said, his accent becoming thicker with anger.

Pitch's gray face grew paler than ever before and his eyes darted to the surrounding shadows, obviously fearing for his own life and searching for an escape.

Tooth snorted. "Coward." she snapped. "If you were have the spirit that you make yourself out to be, you would stay and accept punishment."

_Tooth! _The little voice admonished her. _You know very well the punishment for killing a child. He would be stripped of his powers, if not killed, and what would that do? Absolutely nothing! It would leave the world in chaos and no one would be any better off._

Tooth rubbed her head. "That's right." she said, sighing. "Though I don't know how he got away with killing this boy and no one caught him."

How about you listen to the conversation going on? The voice suggested. Then you might know.

Tooth decided to listen to the voice.

"Pitch," Grim was saying slowly, silently gliding over to the frightened Nightmare King. Pitch didn't move. He was too terrified. "This is a bad ting for you. Spirits don't kill humans, ya know."

Pitch gulped and tried to step back, but whatever paralyzing power Grim had had frozen him. "But- but. . ." he stammered, trying to defend himself.

"But, since you are a spirit new to dis world, I will take de man's soul and keep dis secret between us."

Pitch's eyes widened and he let out a small sigh of relief, but Tooth didn't noticed. She was too busy staring in shock at Grim.

"Grim!" she shouted, outraged that he would let Pitch off the hook so easily! "What are you doing?!"

Then something in that last sentence resurfaced in Tooth's mind and she blinked.

_I will take de man's soul and keep dis secret between us._

"_Man's_ soul?" Tooth repeated, frowning in puzzlement. Then her eyes widened and she gasped. "Oh moon," she said, tucking her feet up and turning to the bed. The face of the boy- now a corpse, was still uncovered from when Grim had pulled the sheet back to reveal his white hair, which glowed slightly in the darkness. Luckily for Tooth, the hair provided enough light for her to see the very fine layer of ginger bristles covering his chin when she bent closer to inspect him.

"My moon, it's an _adult_!" Tooth gasped, her hands covering her mouth in shock. It was. The man couldn't have been any older than twenty and for a moment Tooth didn't know how to react. The being in the nightmare hadn't been a boy, it had been a _man_. She'd just assumed it had been the boy's father or older brother, but she had been wrong. It was indeed the boy in the bed and that meant-

"Then meant you didn't kill a child!" Tooth exclaimed, looking at Pitch. She didn't exactly feel _proud _of the Boogeyman- he had still killed and that was against spirit code -but she was glad that he hadn't murdered a child.

Pitch himself seemed to be greatly relieved that Grim wasn't going to tell on him and he even tried to take Grim's skeletal hand to thank him, but the Grim Reaper wasn't letting him off that easy.

"I will not tell," Grim said, looming over Pitch. Pitch instantly shrank back and Tooth could see the fear re-kindle in his eyes. "Because ya are obviously an ignorant spirit. Ignorant to da rules dat govern da Spirit Realm, ignorant to da limits of your own powers, and ignorant to da world around'ja. A spirit needs to know dese tings to function, and you obviously know none o'dem."

Pitch opened his mouth to reply indignantly, but he thought better of it and closed his mouth again.

"Wise choice." Grim said. "I will keep dis little encounter to maself, _if_ ya promise to never again kill if ya can help it. Not a spirit, not a human. _Ever._ Do ya understand?"

Pitch was about to respond but Tooth wasn't paying attention to him anymore. She was looking at something else.

She had been watching this conversation with rapt attention, logging every detail in her perfect memory, but questions kept popping up as she listened. _Grim was letting him go? Why? How could he justify Pitch's ignorance with a human death?_

Now that was a stupid question. Grim had witnessed uncountable human deaths. That was his job. That, and to collect the souls of the dead and take then to the other side or to whatever afterlife they wanted. Tooth really didn't know the specifics and she wasn't keen on learning, but the point was clear. Grim obviously thought that Pitch would learn to control his powers and he was letting him off.

_Or,_ she thought, frowning at the black-cloaked figure. _Maybe he knows more than he's saying about Pitch and he's trying to help him. Or maybe he's just not feeling charitable today._

"The motives of Death are always unknown," she muttered, staring at the tall, dark, hooded figure with the extremely sharp and creepy-looking bone scythe. It was true. He took where he needed and left here he didn't. No one much talked to him and he was left alone by everyone. You had to do something _really bad_ to tick off Death. He was like North in that way, but it was there the similarities ended.

Grim was solitary and liked to be left alone. North was a social butterfly. Grim was one of the three elders- the greater spirits who spoke directly to the man in the moon. North was a Guardian. He only spoke to Manny through the stone in his workshop floor.

Tooth sighed. Well, when she got out of this Hunt she would have to see the Grim Reaper about this and ask him herself. Right after throttling Pitch Black and dragging him out of whatever hole he was hiding in.

_After I knock all of his teeth out, _she thought savagely. "And he deserves it," she said aloud, with feeling. "For not only breaking the rules _once_ but now I see he's broken them twice!"

_You do know he didn't mean to, right? _The little voice asked._ Just like he didn't mean to kill the girl._

"Intent doesn't matter." Tooth said aloud. "Actions are what matters, and actions have consequences."

_Intent is **everything**!_ Her mind said angrily. _He shouldn't be punished for something he didn't mean to do!_

Tooth rubbed her head furiously. Just thinking about it was giving her a nosebleed. "Why was he even giving her such a potent Nightmare?" she asked angrily. "Tell me that! If he didn't want to kill her, then why did he spend so much time on that one nightmare?!"

The little voice didn't answer and for once, Tooth thought she'd won the argument. Then she heard the voice. It was practically inaudible, even though it was in her head.

_It was an accident._

Tooth laughed bitterly. "Oh sure it was an accident, just like this man was an accident!" At the mention of the man, her head unwillingly turned to the poor dead man in the bed and she sighed sadly.

Or, at least, she would have. If she hadn't been scared out of her feathers by the young man sitting up in his bed and looking around with a puzzled look on his face.

"What the hell!" Tooth gasped, flying back a few feet. "What the hell!"

the young man didn't notice her- DUH! -and just blinked slowly, staring up at the ceiling like there was something calling to him. Neither Pitch nor Grim noticed him, though Pitch probably would've gone as white as a sheet if he had, and they just continued talking as if the man was of no more consequence.

"I promise," Pitch was saying, nodding earnestly. "I promise, I will control my powers. You won't hear from me ever again!"

Grim's hood nodded. "Dat's what I like to hear." he said, then he went silent.

Tooth was still staring at the man with a look of utter horror on her face. "Dear moon Grim, what have you done?!" she whispered, covering her mouth in shock. She couldn't believe it. Had Grim brought the man _back_?

"No," she said, trying to sound firm in her conviction. She started pacing in the air behind the man's bed. "No, Grim knows the penalty for changing things like that. He wouldn't have brought him back even if he needed to save the world! You just don't do things like that!"

_Then why is he sitting up like he just woke up from a refreshing nap? _The little voice inside her asked.

Before Tooth could formulate an answer, Grim turned to look at the bed and the man sitting up in it. Tooth froze. It looked like he was staring right at_ her!_

He didn't speak, but through some kind of telepathic contact the young man swung his legs out of the bed, stood up and walked over to Grim. Pitch didn't notice anything strange, he was too busy assuring Grim that he wouldn't do anything like this again, but Tooth did. She, the unseen visitor, saw all. The young man, clad in a long white nightgown and bare feet, walked right up to Grim and Grim raised his scythe.

Pitch, thinking that the gesture was meant to intimidate him, instantly stopped his flow of words and said, "T- thank you." in a shaky voice.

Grim didn't answer. He raised his scythe in his skeletal hands and, turning the tip of the blade towards the man, touched him lightly on the forehead. The man's eyes widened and his mouth opened, but no sound emerged and, before Tooth could blink, the whole man turned into gray light and was absorbed by the scythe. It was a beautiful sight, but sad, and Tooth felt the whole room shudder from the power of the Grim Reaper.

Pitch, who also felt the power but didn't see it's cause, stepped back and said nervously, "Ahem. Grim?"

Grim didn't respond for several seconds and Tooth could see power rippling along his cloaked body. The red lights that were the Grim Reaper's eyes were out and Tooth assumed he'd closed them, but they instantly rekindled and Tooth knew he was in power again.

"I will take my leave now," Grim said, turning away from the two spirits and raising his scythe. "I hope we never have to meet again little shadow." with that he slammed the butt of his scythe on the ground and turned into an enormous black raven with a wingspan like a bad dream which cawed loudly and swept once around the room, forcing Pitch to duck or else get whacked by a huge girl that was Death. He ducked and, with another caw, the raven swooped out the open window and into the night.

Pitch just stood there for a moment, staring at the departed Reaper. Tooth thought she saw a look of bemusement flash across his face and his lips crease in a small smile, but then the look was replaced by exhausted relief and a little bit of sadness. He turned back to the bed. Tooth did to and wasn't nearly surprised as she should be to find the young man's body still in the same position it had been when he'd died.

The man who had walked towards Grim _had_ been the same man of course, but it had been his spirit, more than his corporeal body. Grim had done as he'd said he would, taking the spirit and hopefully he hadn't told anyone about it already. For Pitch's sake, anyway.

Tooth watched Pitch stare at the body for a while, then he opened his mouth.

"I'm sorry." he said, staring down at the man's face. Tooth was surprised. There was real regret in the man's eyes and at first Tooth didn't believe that he was in fact sorry, but then his next words completely changed her mind. "If I could take it back, I would." Pitch said. "I know that doesn't mean much to you, now that you're dead, but I hope you can hear me and believe me when I say that I am deeply sorry for what I have put you through." Pitch paused. "If it makes you feel any better, assuming you can hear me and I'm not talking to myself,"

Tooth giggled.

"I will never do anything like this again." Pitch continued. "I know my limits now, and I won't intentionally kill another human ever again. I say intentionally, because I don't know what accidents might happen in the future, but I swear that I won't willingly kill a single human ever again."

Tooth gaped. Pitch was making an oath like that?

To a corpse?

Tooth shook her head. "Pitch, you're a liar." she said coldly, remembering the little girl's face twisted in terror. "You _did_ hurt another human, _killed_ another human, and that human was that little girl! I swear that, when I get out of here, I'm going to kick your ass all the way back to the North Pole!"

Pitch stood there for another few minutes, staring down at the man, then he turned and took his leave, stepping into the shadows and leaving nothing but a rapidly-growing cold corpse and a furious Tooth Fairy.

"Coward." Tooth spat, glaring out at where the the Boogeyman disappeared "Slinking shadowy coward. Running away into the night like a sneaking burglar." She really _really_ hated Pitch Black now, not just for what he'd done but for what he _hadn't_ done. He hadn't really done anything useful or important when he'd apologized to the dead man. He hadn't owned up to his crime to the other spirits, he hadn't vowed to rectify his mistake in some way, and he hadn't even done anything to stop himself when it had happened!

_Toothiana you are being unfair and unjust! _That little voice said again, sternly. _You know quite well that he is sorry for what he did, he had no control over it, and when he apologized to the young man, that was the closest he could get to actually making up for what he'd done._

Tooth had to admit that the little voice was right. Pitch really couldn't have done much after the young man had died. He couldn't have done anything, actually. Pitch had no control over life and death and he couldn't have stopped himself once his power had overloaded the young man's heart. She knew this. She knew this quite well. And yet. . .

And yet she couldn't help himself from thinking how much she hated Pitch for what he'd done.

"It's making my head hurt." Tooth muttered, rubbing her head and waiting for the Hunt to be over. Fog would soon be spilling into the room, clouding her eyes and taking her back to her room in her palace. Then she would find Pitch, wherever he was, and wring his neck for this. "No, no, that's not right." Tooth said, keeping her head down. "Pitch is nothing but a stupid spirit who doesn't have enough control over his powers." Her brain reeled. "I- I can't blame him." she finally admitted.

It was true. Tooth didn't want to admit it, she really didn't, but Pitch hadn't done what he'd done intentionally. It was an accident_._ The voice had been right. Pitch wasn't a malicious spirit- well, not towards children anyway, and he wasn't known for hurting them or any other humans. At least, not physically. Mentally he scared the heck out of them whenever he could, but he didn't go around killing them just because he could. He didn't mean to kill the young man and even though he had killed the one in the bed beside her, intent was everything. Just like with the girl, he hadn't _meant_ to kill him.

"He didn't mean it." Tooth said quietly. "He didn't mean it. Pitch is just a stupid spirit who can't control his own powers." Again, true.

Tooth sighed for the millionth time that night and looked up. "He-" then she stopped. The room around her had disappeared, consumed by the fog that transported her to either a different memory or back to her Palace while she'd been thinking about Pitch.

But she wasn't back in her Palace.

"Now what the hell is this?!" Tooth asked, outrage creeping into her voice as she stared around her. She was in the middle of a dimly lit street with shops lining her on all sides. It was dark and they were all closed. The streetlights glowed yellow above her and by that light she could read some of the shop signs. They were written in Russian and there were small piles of snow in the corners and on the roofs of the street.

"Russia." Tooth said, looking around blankly. "Why am I in Russia?"

Obviously she was still in Pitch's memories, and by the date on the newspaper in a machine across the street, significantly closer to her own time. Maybe nineteen seventy, sixty? Whatever. Anyway, the date didn't have a year, but according to the paper it said it was November fifteenth. Deep into winter, and yet there was hardly any snow on the ground. That was odd.

"Pitch!" she said, turning around, looking for the familiar moving shadow of Pitch Black. She didn't see him, but when she turned to look into an alley that was on the other side of the street she saw a black shape darting into the opening. She frowned. Had that been a tail?

"A Nightmare." she whispered, taking flight and buzzing over to the opening. She poked her head inside the opening and saw, with considerable surprise, that there was nothing there. No horse, no Pitch, no nothing.

She frowned, then she flew all the way into the alley, looking around carefully. The alley was dark. There weren't any lamp posts and the only light that filtered in was the dim, weak light from the neon signs hung on the shops across the street. The alley itself was made from dark-red brick and mortar and didn't look very well-kept. Garbage lined the edges of the wall and she could see several illegible posters that were plastered to the wall. They were peeling and soaked with water.

Tooth frowned. "Um, hello?" she called, peering into the darkness.

No response.

Tooth rolled her eyes and bobbed up and down in irritation. "Great. Another creepy alley." she muttered. "And now I have to wait until tall dark and creepy shows his gray ass."

And so she waited, folding her arms and looking from side to side. She saw that the alley ended abruptly with a bricked up end covered in more peeling posters. The other end, the way she'd come in, was also empty.

_"Owwwwwww!"_

Or maybe it wasn't as empty as she thought.

Tooth whirled around and, before she realized what she was doing she raised her fists and set them in a boxer position. "Who's there?" She called, glaring out into the opening.

Nothing.

Tooth blinked, then she looked at her fists and dropped them._ I may be the Guardian of memories, but I obviously don't have as good a memory as I pretend._ She thought, smiling to herself. Talking when she couldn't be heard, raising her fists against an enemy that couldn't actually hurt her, yeah she was definitely having trouble remembering little details. Then her serious expression returned and she glared at the alleyway again.

"OK seriously, are you there Pitch?" she called, this time just to pass the time. "I'm getting bored here."

_"Owwwwwww!"_

This time Tooth didn't react, though her brain told her to and her fists clenched. The moaning- she could tell it was the moaning of a man -was coming from behind her and a little to her left. Tooth slowly turned around and was amazed to see a small, huddled shape near the floor of the alley. She allowed her wings to slowly stop beating and she sank to her knees in front of the huddled shape. It was dark near the floor, but she could still make out a a scraggly beard and a pair of half-closed dark eyes.

Tooth frowned. Was it a homeless man, hiding in an alley because it was warmer? Or maybe he was a drunk, almost passed out? She was curious and she bent a little closer. She'd never seen a drunk before, but she'd seen plenty of homeless people in the big cities. They were always holding signs and things, saying _Will Work For Food_ or _Wash Your Car For Change_. Dressed in rags, greasy and grimy, dirty and wet and always sad. It made her want to cry when she saw people like that.

Tooth shook her head. She couldn't think about that now. She had to figure out who this man was and why he was here. More importantly, where Pitch was! This was his memory after all, so he should be here, right?

The dim light didn't illuminate the floor and she had to bend down to see the man clearly. He was there alright, blending in almost perfectly with the dirty bricks. His scraggly hair and a three month-beard were greasy and gray. His clothes were little more than rags, even for a homeless man. There was a ratty blanket covering his legs and Tooth could see a bottle clasped in his dirty hands. Several more bottles were scattered amidst the garbage and refuse. Green bottles, brown bottles, and even some clear bottles that she assumed had vodka in it, him being Russian.

Tooth stared intently at him. He looked like he'd been there a long time. The fingers that clutched the bottle were crusted with grime and maybe even frostbite. He was shivering.

"I can't believe they do this," Tooth said, staring sadly at the man. "Humans. I can't believe they leave their own to suffer like this."

It made her extremely sad to see people like this, left alone because no one cared about them. Still, she knew that she couldn't do anything about it. Just like she couldn't do anything about the young man who had died.

"So, what happens now?" she asked, looking at the man. He was almost asleep and, since he couldn't see her, he didn't answer.

Someone else _did_ answer though, just not in a language Tooth understood. One minute she was staring at the semi-peaceful man, the next she was staggering back against the wall when she heard- and felt -the snorting of an animal right beside her face.

"AGH!" Tooth yelled, flinching and zooming backward a few feet with her fists raised again. There was a huge, black horse standing in the alleyway, looming over the man and snorting into his face. It's coat writhed and glimmered like sand-

"SAND!" Tooth exclaimed, suddenly recognizing the familiar horse. It was one of Pitch's Nightmares.

Tooth narrowed her eyes. If this was a Nightmare, then it's master couldn't be far behind. What was it _doing_ here anyway?

The Nightmare lowered it's head towards the man leaning up against the wall. Tooth almost made to stop it, but then she remembered that she, like Jack when he wasn't believed in, couldn't touch it or anything else. She growled and gripped her hands in tight fists. If this..._thing_ did anything to hurt a poor, homeless man-

"If it does anything to him," Tooth said tiredly, unclenching her fists and looking up at the sky sadly. "I'm stuck just watching and trying to avert my eyes." I was true. She couldn't do a damn thing about it. Just like-

"NO!" She said angrily, surprising even herself with the outburst. "No," she said again, a little more calmly. "I can't think about the young man that died. He died a long time ago and I can't do anything about." She sighed. "Again, this is why I hate Memory-hunts. The nosebleeds, the lack of solidity, and the freaking annoying lack of ability to do anything about what I'm seeing. It's driving me crazy!"

It _was_ driving her crazy, but just like the contents of the memory, she couldn't do anything about it. She was the unseen observer and, until the memory decided to let her go, she was at it's mercy.

The Nightmare-horse had it's nose right up against the man's face now. She could see it breathing and blowing back his hair with each snort. The man didn't seem to notice the giant black sand horse right in front of him and Tooth wondered if he was asleep. She wanted to take a closer look, but she was afraid of the Nightmare.

Finally, unable to quell her curiosity, she allowed herself to drop about a foot down. She couldn't see from her vantage point or _dis_advantage, as the case may be, and that was killing her. She wanted to know what was doing on!

"It's just a memory," she told herself over and over again as she drifted closer. "Just an incredibly realistic, living, snorting memory. NO! Bad girl! _Don't_ be thinking like that!"

Still, whatever she told herself the Nightmare continued to freak her out and she still stayed to the left of the beast, hovering away from it as far as she could be without losing sight of the man on the ground. It seemed like the creepy horse was nuzzling against the man's head, but somehow she didn't think that was it. She watched for another few minutes, then, just as the horse was about to pull away the man let out a scream and Tooth and the horse were blinded by a flash of white light.

Tooth staggered back, simultaneously blinded by the bright light and nearly deafened by the blast of pure, unfiltered sound that battered her eardrums. The man's scream was long and lasted for what felt like hours, but in reality was only a few minutes, and she had to clap her hands over her ears to drown out the terrible sound. Even then, the noise filtered through the miniscule gaps between her fingers and penetrated her eardrums, making her moan in pain.

"STOP!" She begged, all other thoughts completely washed from her mind. All she could hear were the torturous sounds of the man's screams, as if-

Her mind ground to a screeching halt. _Oh no, please no!_

Before she could stop herself Tooth opened her eyes and tried to stare past the blinding light. It hurt like white fire, but she had strong eyes and she could just barely make out the shape of the man huddled against the wall and the black beast in front of him. It's nose was touching the tip of the man's forehead and there was pure fear in his wide, green eyes.

_It's the same as the man in the bed,_ she thought, staring at the man in front of her with a look of utter sadness in her eyes. She knew what had happened.

The Nightmare had taken this man's life. Scared him to death, just like that little girl and that young man.

Before Tooth even had a chance to react, however, a familiar voice spoke form the mouth of the Alleyway. "Ebony!"

Tooth didn't turn around. It was Pitch, of course. The voice was silky-smooth, just like before. She could tell that it was him. _Just in time to witness his oath being broken to Grim_, she thought savagely, clenching her fists.

"Ebony, I thought I told you not to-" the voice stopped. The footsteps that had accompanied the voice as Pitch walked into the alleyway stopped as well and the world around her was plunged into complete silence.

Tooth didn't want to, but she couldn't help herself. She turned around. No doubt Pitch was slack-jawed in admiration for his creation's work, but when she did turn around and look upon the Boogeyman for the first time since the end of the first memory, she was astonished to see him shaking with _fear_!

Tooth blinked. Maybe she was seeing things. She kneaded her eyes, but when she looked again he was still acting the same way. His mouth was open- not too much, just enough to show his tongue, his eyes were wide with a combination of fear and outrage and his shoulders were shaking.

"What have you done?" he asked. His voice was barely above a whisper and Tooth had to strain to hear it. There was a strange tone layering his words that she hadn't ever known the Boogeyman to use. Whenever she'd heard him speak, he'd always been smooth, arrogant and completely sure in himself. Now, he sounded like a child who had just come home to his cats chewing on a dead baby bunny. I know, not the most appetizing of similes, but I digress.

"What have you _done_?!"

OK, now the seeing-a-dead-bunny voice was being rapidly replaced by a seeing-a-puppy-peeing-on-your-favorite-chair, just-as-you-get-home voice. In short, indignant and very angry.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" He finally screamed, striding forward like the 'all-powerful' Boogeyman he pretended to be. The horse, at first proud of its accomplishment but now knowing that it did something exceedingly bad, whinnied nervously and shifter on its hooves. "DO YOU REALIZE HOW MUCH TROUBLE I AM IN?!" he bellowed.

The beast nickered and Pitch erupted in a shout of anger and sent a bolt of black sand straight through the horse's side. It lat out a pained cry and then dissolved into black sand which flew back to Pitch's hand and he clenched his fist around it, crushing it.

Tooth jumped at what she swore was a horse's cry faintly coming from his hand, then it faded. She stared at him. Pitch still had his fist in the air and sand trickled from between his fingers. He was staring down at the man. His greasy hair had been turned pure white, just like the other two, and the look of utter horror on his face was still there. Tooth had to turn away. She couldn't look. Pitch stood there for a long time silently, just staring at the man with a look that was obviously part self-preservatory fear and part pity for the dead man.

_Right, _she thought. _Like he actually feels sorry for what that thing did._

"Well, fancy seeing you here, Pitch." A familiar Jamaican-accented voice said from right behind them. Pitch jumped as Grim emerged from the end of the alley, all black cloak and shining raven's wings, just like the last time they'd seen him. Tooth didn't jump. Fighting Pitch for such a long time and knowing so many other spirits that popped up like that without warning had given her a high tolerance for surprises.

"G- Grim," Pitch stuttered, the pity immediately evaporating from his eyes to be replaced by naked fear. "I swear, I had no knowledge of this. I didn't do it, one of my-"

"Pitch, Pitch," Grim said, stopping the Boogeyman's stammers of explanation He was sounding suspiciously calm and it unnerved Tooth. He walked closer. "Relax. Can't I just pop in to see an old friend?"

Tooth snorted. Grim was playing the intimidation game. The calmer he appeared, the more angry he was. Pitch should know that. But, being a young spirit at this time, he probably didn't.

As if to clench this, Pitch's face lit up and he obviously believed, just for a second, that he might actually get out of this situation alive. Then Grim put the skeletal hand- one that wasn't holding his scythe, on Pitch's shoulder and squeezed. Pitch cried out, but he was quickly stifled by the force of Grim's hand. Skeleton though he may be, Grim was immensely powerful and as such was more than a match for Pitch. Pitch was a kid with a devil mask shouting "Boo!" compared to Grim.

"AH-!"

Tooth flinched. The Nightmare King's shout reverberated off of the brick walls.

"Now," Grim said in a deadly calm voice. His accent became more pronounced and his voice deepened to one that was used by a being of immeasurable power. Which Grim was. "We haven't seen each other in some time Pitch. How have you been?" Another squeeze, making a scream erupt from the Nightmare King's mouth. He tried to sink to his knees because the pain was too much for him, but Grim's strong hand kept him upright. "Seen any new spirits recently?" Another squeeze. Tears were streaming down Pitch's face and he had to gasp for air, even though he didn't need it. "_Murdered_ anyone lately?"

With that, Grim dropped him and Pitch crumpled to the ground, curled into a little ball of pain.

For a second, Tooth almost felt compassion for the Boogeyman. Technically he hadn't killed this old man, the Nightmare had. Yet, the Nightmare was under Pitch's control. He was responsible for whatever atrocities it committed The thing had been acting of it's own accord, but Pitch was still it's master. If a dog killed a sheep, the owner had to pay for it. It was Pitch's turn to pay and, though he looked so pitiful lying there on the ground, holding himself and trying to stem the flow of tears, she couldn't bring herself to forgive him.

"P- please," Pitch gasped, his body now convulsing with pain. "I didn't-"

"Spare me." Grim said coldly. "Ya violated our agreement. Ya killed again. And now ya shall pay the price."

With that, Grim raised his scythe and prepared to bring it down on Pitch's neck, but Pitch let out a loud scream and wailed like a playground bully, "IT WASN'T ME! IT WAS MY NIGHTMARE!"

Grim paused, his scythe poised above the unfortunate Boogeyman. "Say again?" he asked.

"It wasn't me!" Pitch pleaded. "I didn't take his life! I was on the other side of the town, giving a well-deserved nightmare to a bully who broke a seven-year-old's nose."

Grim stared down at him for a long moment and Tooth practically heard the iciness that he directed at the Boogeyman, but he didn't say a word.

Pitch, relieved that he wasn't being beheaded and slowly calming down, gulped and said, slower this time, "I told it to go on ahead back to my lair without me and that I would meet it their, after making my usual rounds. It apparently decided to take a detour."

Grim continued to stare down at him, his scythe unwavering. Tooth hovered a little closer and she swore she saw Pitch look at her, then she realized that the dead man was directly behind her and she knew that he was looking at him. Still, this afforded her a chance to look him full in the face and when she did, she saw that there was genuine regret in his eyes.

"I swear, I didn't want this man to die." Pitch said, sounding more like his normal self but with a touch of compassion in his voice that Tooth hadn't heard before. "I will punish my creation profusely for this and," he glanced up at Grim. "I know that I, as the horse's creator am to blame partially."

Grim still didn't respond.

"And, ah, I will promise to keep a tighter leash on my servants in future." Pitch said, stumbling over the first few words. He was looking up at Grim with a hopeful, if slightly fearful, look on his face. Tooth didn't think Grim was buying it.

Grim continued to stare down at him for a long, long time. Then, just as Pitch started to open his mouth to talk again, Grim's bony fingers tightened around his scythe and before Tooth could scream or Pitch even had a chance to raise his hands in defense, Grim let the scythe's blade fall between the Boogeyman's legs.

Pitch closed his eyes and gritted his teeth in anticipation of the horror, but Tooth kept her eyes open. She was curious, in spite of herself.

Five seconds, then ten. Then Pitch tentatively opened one eye and looked down. The blade was lodged in the concrete, right in the middle of his knees. He let out a relieved breath and opened the other eye. Then he glanced fearfully up at Grim, who began to laugh. It was not a pleasant laugh. Not one you would want your boyfriend or husband to have. Not an endearing laugh or even a fairly _nice_ one. It was a deep, booming laugh, and it made the feathers on Tooth's arms stand on end. It was creepy.

"Oh, ya should see ya face!" Grim said, chuckling darkly. Then he yanked the scythe out of the pavement and reached out a skeletal hand to help Pitch up. Pitch looked at the hand, then at Grim. "Oh, take it Pitch." Grim said, sounding just like any normal friend, as if he didn't have giant raven wings, bone hands and a scythe that could render Pitch unable to have any female company in his long years to come. "I'm not mad at ya."

"Y- you're not?" Pitch stammered, obviously surprised. "But-"

"Listen, Pitch," Grim said, looming over the rapidly paling Boogeyman. Grim's tone was conversational, in a deep, creepy way that made you think of the voice of Kronos in Tartarus from the Percy Jackson books. Tooth would not be surprised in any way, shape or form if the writer had modeled Kronos's voice after Grim's. It was a voice of real power. "I have no grudge against ya."

Pitch stared up hesitantly for a few seconds, then he accepted the hand and was pulled to his feet by the other spirit. Pitch was about to thank him, but Grim squeezed his hands more tightly than your usual friendly handshake.

"In trut, da old codger was going to die the next day anyway. He had no family or friends, so he won't be missed"

Pitch started to nod but grim squeezed again, silencing him.

"Still, I don't want you to forget this day soon, in case you let another one of your pets free."

Suddenly Pitch cried out in pain and he tried to break the link, but Grim held on.

"Let dis be a reminder to ya, Pitch Black." he intoned in a deep, movie-promo voice. "So dat'cha might not take life an' deat' so lightly."

"I won't!" Pitch screamed, fighting to break free of the spirit's hold. "I won't, I swear!"

"Good." Grim let the hand drop and turned to the dead man. Pitch fell back onto the floor and stared up at the tall, imposing Reaper looming over him. "I know ya will be a good boy now Pitch. And if not. . ."

Pitch screamed in pain again and clutched his face. "What are you doing?!" he asked, clawing at his face as if burning tar was caked on it.

"Just a little present." Grim said. "To make sure ya remember. Ya are a vain spirit, Pitch Black." and then, after touching the dead man on the head with his scythe and taking his soul, the Grim Reaper disappeared

Tooth, curious to the point of irritation about what Grim had done, flew closer that he ever had to the Nightmare King. His hands were still covering his face and he moaned in pain.

_"Why?"_ he moaned. "Why _me?!_"

"Move your hands!" Tooth ordered, for the first time overcoming her fears and talking like she would to any other spirit. "I want to see what he did!"

But Pitch didn't move his hands. At least, not immediately. After about five minutes, during which Tooth watched him like a hawk, he reluctantly lowered his hands and stared fixedly at the dead body.

Tooth scrutinized his face. There wasn't anything different that she could see. Same Nose, same hair, same skin tone, same invisible eyebrows-

She froze.

Right where Pitch's eyebrows would be, if he had any, were two pink lines. She stared.

"Pitch... had eyebrows?" She said slowly, as if not daring to believe it. Then she said it a little louder, with more conviction as she realized the truth of her discovery. "Pitch had eyebrows!" It was true. She _remembered_ it now! When she'd seen him in the memory, she hadn't looked at his face properly. Well, she had looked at his _face_ face, but not his eyebrows and hairline. She was just so use to not seeing them in her time that she dismissed their existence now as a trick of the light, but now she could see them very clearly.

Or, at least she could see the places were they had _been._ Now that they were gone, all that remained were those twin patches of lighter skin above his eyes. They looked like they'd been shaved off when Pitch was having a tan, the skin-tone was so different. The eyebrow patches, pink though they were, also looked a little lighter that the rest of his face. More like human skin that his own ashen complexion.

Tooth smiled and allowed a giggle to escape her mouth, then a snort, then a full-blown laugh. This was great! Grim had hit upon the one thing that would make Pitch remember his oath. His vanity. Grim was right. She'd never seen a spirit preen so much.

Not that she didn't do her own healthy bit of primping on occasion. Tooth enjoyed the glossy sheen of her feathers and took great pains to make sure they looked like they did and not the moldy old feathers of a cockatoo.

Still, it was hilarious that, out of all reasons, _THIS_ was how and why Pitch had lost his eyebrows.

There had actually been a few rumors going around the spirit grapevine as to how he had lost said hairs, the theories of which ranged from an accident with the summer Spirit to him just being bad at shaving. Tooth's theory had been that it was a generic anomaly, but now she knew the truth! That it was Grim's doing!

"I can't wait to tell the others!" She said, chuckling evilly and rubbing her hands together in anticipation. The fog was already forming around her and she knew that she would be back in her palace any minute. When she got back, she knew that she was going to have to tell the Guardians about this. They would be outraged to know that Pitch had broken the spirit code not once but three times, and they would be even more furious to know that Grim had helped him.

This thought suddenly brought all other thoughts in her head to a grinding halt.

"Wait," she said, frowning. "Grim. What am I going to say about Grim?"

What a damn good question.

She lowered her hands and looked at the fog around her. It was almost as thick as it needed to be to transport her home. She would be back in her own room within minutes.

"He spared Pitch, even when he deserved to be punished. Why?" she asked herself in a whisper. _"Why_ did he do it?"

Well, that was just as stupid a question as it was the first time she'd asked it. Grim never gave away his reasons easily, if at all. He was much like Manny in that way. Always working behind the scenes. A puppet master, moving strings and chess pieces.

"The man behind the curtain." Tooth muttered. "But why was he helping Pitch out all these decades earlier? Did he know what was going to happen?"

No, that was ridiculous. Only Father Time had access to the Time Stream and knew the future, which as always changing and so whatever future he saw changed almost as soon as he saw it. That wouldn't work.

"Maybe Grim was told by Time," she mused, allowing the fog to engulf her and spin her around like she was in the center of a mini-cyclone. "That might make sense, although the inconsistency of the shifting Time Strands might make the knowledge useless." She really didn't know. Father Time was the only one who really understood these things. She had no idea how Physics worked. Her specialty was memories, which had a lot to do with the Time Stream, but not enough that she'd been privied to exact knowledge of their workings.

Several seconds later a still-thinking Tooth was deposited into a place that certainly wasn't her palace. Namely, a hospital room in Phoenix, Arizona.


	13. Chapter 13

**HOLA HUMANI! I am back! ****I know you missed me. right?  
**

***Awkward silence***

**Ahem. Anyway, I've been busy like a beaver and yes, I have managed to make my update schedule stick! Yay me!**

**I know I haven't replied in a long while, so here are some replies to my great reviews:**

**To Vanellope Von Schweetz101- I know you're not spamming dear, but please, give me an actual review next time. Goodness knows I want people to stop SOPA as much as the rest of us but it's not going to be stopped if you post it over and over again on my reviews board. Try messaging your friends or something, but please don't post that review any more. I care about Fanfiction and I really want to stop SOPA, but I don't think posting that over and over again will help.  
**

**To The One Named MoonLight- AW man! OK, searching for small, green, notebook.  
**

**To ObsidianLove- Hey girl, how are you doing? I've been worried because I haven't seen any updates for Is Online in a while. Don't let that snob from the critics get you down. you're writing is fanominal! Get it? Fan-omin- yeah never mind. Well, here it is. I hope you enjoy.**

**And that's it!**

**Oh, and, for the last time, I don't own rotg. I think I might've mentioned that at chapter. . . one. ;) whoopsies.**

* * *

She was still talking to herself when she arrived. Muttering about Pitch, Grim and all that had happened since she'd entered this hell-hole of a Memory Hunt.

"Nosebleeds, confusion, fog, stupid spirits, death, Gods do I hate all of this!" she growled, flinging her hands in the air and finally looking up at her surroundings. What she thought was going to be her room actually was a small hospital room. Obviously she was still in his memories and it took her a while to notice this. When she did, her eyes bulged and she let out an awful screech.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!" she demanded, buzzing over to the window and glaring out at the world. The sky was dark, but the streets were lit up with electrical signs and neon lights. The green _You Are Now Entering Phoenix_ sign clued her into her current position and, when she turned around to look at her surroundings again she noticed that she wasn't alone. There was a woman in the hospital bed in the center of the room, hooked up to a dozen iv's and had a breathing tube stuck in her mouth. She was obviously awake, but her strength was fading.

Tooth felt her anger just slip away when she saw the poor woman in the bed. She had greasy blonde hair that lay like a thick curtain beneath her head and Tooth could see the neck of a green hospital gown underneath the thin blankets they'd given her. Her bedside table was covered in get well soon cards and flowers. She was obviously loved by many people.

Tooth took another step forward, towards the woman, then she froze. The shadows on the other side of the room were moving.

"Pitch." she snarled and, true to his nature, the Boogeyman appeared. "I swear," she growled, raising a finger at him. "If you kill this woman I will come after you and beat you senseless, knocking out all of your teeth and then leaving you with Father Time and Gaia!"

But Pitch ignored her empty threats and walked straight over to the woman's bed. He looked down on her scared face. The woman's eyes flickered, then they slowly closed. For a second Tooth felt panic leap into her throat. Was Pitch really killing another person? Really?! After all the crap tooth had just seen him go through?!

Tooth flew in for better look and saw that her chest was moving up and down slowly. "Oh thank the gods." she whispered. The woman was just asleep.

Pitch continued to look down at the woman and Tooth thought she saw a look of pity on the Boogeyman's face, but it passed quickly and Pitch raised his head to look back at the wall he'd just appeared out of. "I can hear you," he said quietly.

Tooth blinked, momentarily distracted by Pitch doing hat she assumed was talking to herself. "Hear who?" she asked, puzzled.

Pitch turned back to the woman. "She's afraid of dying, afraid of leaving her family."

"It a reasonable fear," a now familiar Jamaican-accented voice said from right behind Tooth. She jumped and whirled around to face the Reaper, glaring at him with fire in her eyes and her fists tightly clenched. _F*ing spirits popping up out of nowhere!_

"Grim!" She yelled. "You scared my feathers off! What the heck are you doing here anyway, and why are you with _him_?" she added, pointing to Pitch with a look of pure hate on her face. Gone was the pity and compassion for the being in the alleyway. No matter what that still, small voice in the back of her head told her, he was still a bad guy.

Grim didn't answer her, as she knew he wouldn't, and walked right through her, coming to stand beside Pitch. The woman's eyes opened again. Tooth watched as the dark green orbs gazed at the space which Pitch and Grim were occupying, almost as if she could see them. Tooth frowned and watched the woman's eyes closely. Could she really see the two spirits in front of her? She flew around to the other side of the bed so that she could get a closer look from the woman's perspective and discovered, with some surprise, that she could. Or, at least, she was looking in Both Grim and Pitch's directions alternately.

She made a rasping noise, but Tooth couldn't make it out.

"Can you let her speak?" Pitch asked, turning to him. His voice was slow and quiet, almost inaudible.

Tooth blinked, then she allowed her eyes to travel over the Boogeyman's face. Pitch seemed different that when last she'd see him. _Older_ somehow. The fear and supreme arrogance that usually coursed through his veins was gone, replaced by a strange, complacent tone that Tooth had never heard before. From _him_ anyway. It was part compassion, part undefinable sadness. His face was comber and his normally bright eclipse eyes had dimmed.

She looked from the Boogeyman to the Grim Reaper. Why were they here?

"I can." Grim said. Then he raised his scythe and touched the woman's neck with it's tip. The woman's eyes closed instantly and Grim drew the scythe back, slowly backing away from the bed. A long, thin line trailed from the tip of the scythe to the woman's neck, linking the two. Grim was extremely slow and careful not to break the line.

When he'd brought it back far enough, Grim grasped the scythe in both skeletal hands and black light began to seep from the scythe's blade. The light intertwined with the line from the woman's neck and Grim yanked the scythe back, breaking the link. The end of the line that broke at the woman's neck fluttered to the ground and the black light enveloped it, whirling around it like it was the center of a tornado.

Tooth watched, amazed, as the dark light began to expend slightly and rise, turning into the rough outline of a body and soon an exact shadow-replica of the woman in the bed was cowering before them. Her body was clothed in the hospital gown that was customary in hospitals, but her face was clean and her hair hung in curly ringlets down to her shoulders.

"Wh- where am I?" she asked, looking from Grim to Pitch. Her eyes were wide and she looked terrified.

"Please, calm down." Grim said, taking a step forward. "I am Tanatos, da Grim Reaper, and dis is Pitch Black da Nightmare King. I am the spirit responsible fa ferry souls from dis side to the odder sides where dey may choose dere aftalife."

This was news to Tooth. She hadn't known any of the particularities of Grim's job.

"Am- am I dead?" she asked, stammering slightly.

"Not yet." Pitch said. "But it won't be long now."

"Not the best thing to say Pitch," Tooth warned, knowing that this would probably serve to upset her more but actually, weirdly enough, it made her laugh.

"Thank god." she said, straightening up slightly, brushing the hospital dress off. "It has been hell in here, trapped night and day, being stuck with needles and god knows what else." she said, smiling. Then her face fell slightly and her relieved tone disappeared, replaced by sadness. "I haven't seen my children in some time." she said quietly.

"I know," Grim said. "Dat is why I brought you here, so dat'cha may tell ya family goodbye."

Her eyes widened and she gasped, "You- you mean it?"

"It is part of my job," Grim said. Emotion was gone form his voice now. "I ferry souls to da odder sides and make sure they get ta say goodbye to dere family."

Again, new info. Huh. You learn something new every day.

She thanked them, then she turned to leave but she caught sight of her body. "Is," she faltered. "Is that me?"

"Yes." Grim said. "Now hurry. Dis dunna last for long."

She tore her eyes away from the bed and, after a last look at Grim and Pitch, turned and flew through the door. _She_ obviously hadn't had any problems adjusting to being a ghost.

"So why are ya here Pitch?" Grim asked, turning to Pitch. "Last time I saw ya I told'ja-"

"Yes yes, I know." Pitch said, waving his hand. "Don't worry, I haven't. I've gotten better at using my powers since then. Trust me." he shot a bolt of concentrated Nightmare Sand at the wall of the room, hitting only a narrow spread area.

"Hmm." Grim said. "Not bad."

"I've been practicing." Pitch said offhandedly. "But that is neither here nor there. You asked me why I was here, correct?"

Tooth's tiny ears pricked up. _This_ was the little tidbit of information she wanted.

"Indeed."

"Well, I am here, in a sense, to carry out an experiment." Pitch replied, sounding slightly tense now. And who wouldn't be, with the Grim Reaper staring at him like that?

"An... experiment?" Grim repeated in monotone, but Tooth could sense he was apprehensive about what the Boogeyman would say.

"Yes." Pitch said, raising his hand and summoning another handful of Dreamsand. "I don't want to keep hurting people Grim, but my powers are getting too strong for me to control. I black out. It hasn't happened in some time and, so far I haven't killed anyone, but who knows how long it'll be until I do?" he paused, then he crushed the sand and brushed off his hands. Tooth was listening intently.

What was he talking about, blacking out? Was that _possible_? Questions whirled in her head and she couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the Boogeyman again. _Whatever is happening to him, it's obviously painful for him. I can hear the hurt in his voice, _she thought. _Genuine hurt, not mocking or false. He really does feel regretful about the human's he'd killed._

"After Paris," Pitch said, lacing his fingers together and staring down at his feet. His voice was soft, barely audible. "I promised myself I would never do personal Nightmares, for risk of doing what I did to that young man in London and the old Russian. But my powers, they're growing. Too fast. Too much. The Guardians think it's me but it's not. It's. . ." Pitch paused again and raised a finger to tap his forehead meaningfully. "It's _them. They _are the ones doing this, and I can't get anyone to believe me!"

Grim was silent for a while and Pitch didn't raise his head to look him in the eye- er, _hood._ Tooth, however, filled the silence quite well with her own talking.

"Them?" she asked, frowning at Pitch. "Who's _them_? Pitch, are you saying you have _voices in your head?_ HA! The irony!" she laughed. "But seriously, what are you talking about? I'm not sure what year this is, but whenever it was we hadn't see you before Easter for at least fifty years, so what do you mean when-" she stopped. Her eyes widened and her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh gods, this must be just before Katrina." she whispered through her fingers, horrified at the thought of that awful day.

What the humans called hurricane Katrina, the biggest hurricane to hit the world since the ice age, was actually the result of Pitch and the Guardian's last battle before Easter. He'd gotten pretty powerful and they put him down, but before they had learned he was acting suspiciously. Making more Nightmares, taking time to make personal visits again and even terrifying large masses of children in community homes where he could get fear in large quantities while saving his own energy.

"Have ya tried talking to _him_?" Grim finally asked.

Pitch spat. "HA! As if he would help me."

"Ya never know unless ya try," Grim said quietly.

"And I'm never _going_ to try. I'm sorry Grim, but I would rather let my evil infect _children_ that ask the Man in the Moon for help." Pitch said firmly, folding his arms.

"Alright, let's go back." Grim said slowly. He knew that Pitch didn't like the Man in the Moon, obviously, and even though he was the stronger, older spirit he didn't want Pitch angry. "Ya said ya had an experiment ta test out. What kind o' experiment?"

Pitch sighed. "I want to see if I can pull someone back." he said, finally looking Grim straight in the hood. "You know, if they're almost gone from my efforts and I can try to pull them back. Of course I wouldn't dream of doing this without your permission. You are the keeper of life and Death, so I figured you should be here as well. Not only to keep an eye on what I'm doing, but also to stop me if I go overboard. Do you understand?"

Grim was silent for a few seconds, then he spoke. "Ya... want ta try an' _save_ a human life?" he asked, as if not sure he heart Pitch right.

Pitch nodded. "Yes. I'm sick and tired of being the one who adults warn their children about. I'm tired of hiding under beds and I'm tired of not being accepted. I just want a home, somewhere to belong. Surely you know that feeling better than anyone!"

"I do." Grim replied. "But Pitch, if ya try dis and fail, I will have no choice but to inform the Guardians of dis. Ya understand."

Pitch closed his eyes and nodded slowly. "I know. If I kill this woman and someone finds out, I will be persecuted. They will find me and they will learn that you have been helping me, and they will not be happy."

"No." Grim said. "Dey will not."

The two spirits stood in silence for a bit, then Pitch said, "Another reason I wanted you here was because I wanted the woman who I'm about attempt this on to get a chance to visit her family before hand. Say goodbye to them, just in case I don't succeed and all this is for nothing."

"Dat is commendable, Pitch." Grim said. "Ya are a better spirit dan I gave you credit for."

Pitch looked up with a hopeful smile on his face. "If I'm so great, do you think you could give me back my eyebrows? I'm getting a lot of shit from the other spirits about it."

Grim chuckled. The sound sent shivers going up and down Tooth's spine.

"Sorry, but I can't." Grim said.

Pitch smiled a small, sad smile. Then he turned back to the hospital bed. "Well, no harm in asking." A pause, then, "She should be back soon, correct?"

"Ten minutes." Grim replied.

Pitch nodded and they waited. Tooth felt like she was going insane. The amount of knowledge she was processing was incredible!

"Pitch wants to help humans." She said it like a mantra, over and over again. "He wants to help humans." Inside her head, her thoughts whirled.

_Pitch is trying to help a human, get control of his powers, and all because he wants to be accepted. _She felt horrible about how she'd threatened him inn the previous memories. _He's turning over a new leaf. He can't make right the wrongs he did all those years ago, but he's trying to change his future. _It was incredible how much her opinions had changed about the Boogeyman in this short about of time.

First she had hated him for what he'd done, then she had felt compassion for him because of how afraid he had looked in the previous memory. Now. . . she didn't know how she felt. Sad, definitely. Hearing what Pitch had been going through, even if she didn't understand it all, made her heart ache. Blacking out and not knowing where he was when he woke up, being unable to control his powers and inflicting pain when he obviously disliked it, it must have been horrible for him to live like that.

Tooth sighed. She wished there had been a way for her to help Pitch here, or even at all, but she knew that would be impossible.

"Pitch did what he did, and now I have to just stand here and wait for this to be over, feeling like a useless moron because I can't do anything." she muttered, folding her arms.

The spirit of the woman appeared through the door about five minutes later, and she was smiling. "Thank you." she said, floating over to Grim. "Thank you so much."

"Did dey see ya?" Grim asked.

"My youngest did." the woman said. "My eldest almost did, but I told her I loved her anyway. I think she heard me. My husband saw me and he tried to hug me, but I couldn't touch him."

"Dat is natural." Grim said. "Ya have no substance."

She nodded. "So, am I about to die now?" she asked.

Tooth frowned. "Are you eager to get it over with?"

"Not just yet." Grim said. "My friend here has an offer for you."

Pitch stepped forward. "My name is Pitch Black, I am the Nightmare King." he said, trying to appear friendly.

The woman glanced at Grim. "Um, I'm sorry, but I don't-"

"I'm the Boogeyman." Pitch cut in before she could finish.

A look of recognition dawned on her face and she nodded. "OH!"

Pitch smiled. "I get that reaction a lot."

She smiled back. "I can imagine." she looked him up and down. "You don't look like the Boogeyman."

"I get that a lot too." Pitch replied. "It's the robe I guess."

"And the hair. The only thing that makes you even look remotely scary is that smile." she added, smiling.

"I know right?!" Tooth said, laughing. "His eyes are more beautiful than scary, and how can you be scared by a guy in a robe?" then she realized just what she'd said and she blushed profusely. "I am _so_ glad no one heard that." she muttered.

"Thank you." Pitch said uncertainly, obviously not too sure if she was complimenting him or insulting him.

She beamed. "So, what's this about an offer?" she asked, folding her arms. "If it's about bringing me back to life after I'm gone as some kind of spirit girlfriend for you then I'd better get back in my body. No... thank... you."

Pitch blushed. "No, that's not my offer. I assure you."

"Then what?"

Tooth chuckled at the expression on his face. He looked vastly uncomfortable.

Pitch coughed, still having trouble getting past the girlfriend comment and Grim elbowed him. "Ahem. Well, as the Boogeyman I have certain powers to control my element. Fear. And my powers have been getting out of control for some time."

"What kind of powers and why do you need me?" she asked.

"Well, I can control this," Pitch said, raising his hand and causing a trail of nightmare sand to shoot out of his palm towards the wall where it dissipated as soon as it made contact with the wall. "It's called Nightmare Sand, a kind of opposite for the dreamsand the Sandman uses."

"OH!" she said again, her eyes widening. "So you're like the opposite of the Sandman!"

Pitch winced. "Yes. He brings sweet dreams to those children who need then, I give nightmares to those who need them."

"And who are you to judge if children need nightmares?" she asked, a little coldly. "I remember Chloe, my youngest, running into my room screaming because she had a nightmare as six years old about being chased by a giant rat."

"That's my other power," Pitch said, stepping back slightly. "I can sense people's deepest, darkest fears. And I use that power to help children overcome their fears. I never wanted to be feared as much as I am, because people don't understand that fear is good for you. If you aren't afraid, you can do stupid things that can get you killed or seriously injured."

The woman nodded and conceded, "I can't argue with that."

"Maintaining the balance of fear and courage is a tricky business," Pitch continued. "And lately my powers have been getting out of hand."

"What do you mean?" she asked. "I thought that you controlled-"

"I do, in a sense." Pitch interrupted. "Actually, the more correct was to put it is I focus the powers, because the powers aren't my own. They belong to the dark beings which have taken up residence inside of me called Fearlings."

Tooth gasped, horror filling her eyes and her brain struggled to comprehend what Pitch had just said. "Fearlings! I thought those were wiped out before the Golden Age ended!" Eventuality not, because as soon as Tooth heard the words and saw the bitterness in Pitch's eyes when he said their name, she realized that they were the _Them_ that Pitch had been talking about. They were the things that were making him black out and trying to take control of him. "Oh gods," she whispered. "Pitch..."

The _pain_ Pitch must've been going through when he had fought them all those years ago must've been unbelievable. And they hadn't done a thing to help him. It made her heart twist into a painful knot.

"Fearlings?" the woman asked.

"Beings made out of pure fear." Pitch said. "They used to exist on this earth, but it was far before this age. Now, the only ones who exist are in my head and they want out. I've been trying to control them, but accidents keep happening."

"Accidents?" the woman asked suspiciously.

"Yes. I have-" Pitch stopped, then he glanced at Grim. Grim didn't say anything. "I have allowed them to break free on two occasions and it has resulted in the deaths of two people. I didn't _mean_ to do it," he said quickly when he saw the horrified look on her face. "I swear! They took control and I just-" Anguish had been creeping into the Boogeyman's voice and he had to stop to keep it from quivering. "I didn't mean to do it and I'm trying to stop it," he said slowly, his eyes still shut. "I want to learn to control my powers and keep from hurting people, which brings me to my offer." he opened his eyes.

The woman, who had been staring straight at him the whole time with a cold look, suddenly blinked and her eyes softened. "Tell me." she said quietly.

Pitch smiled. He looked glad that she wasn't screaming and rejecting his offer before he even told her what it was. "Well," he began. "I have been working on my control and keeping calm when faced with a particularly strong nightmare, but it's not enough. I want to see if I can bring someone back from the brink of death if they are in the middle of one of my nightmares. And, since I have no idea of this will be successful or not, I thought that trying it on someone already close to death wouldn't make much of a difference." He took a few steps forward. "You don't have to do this, just so you know." he added. "It's completely voluntary."

"Are you kidding? After you let me say goodbye to my family when I thought I would die the next day?" she asked, smiling at him. _"Of course_ I'll do it! It can't be any worse then my current situation, can it?"

Pitch winced and the smile vanished. "There is one thing I must tell you," he said, walking right up to her and looking her straight in the eyes to tell her he was serious. "I can't allow you to do this without knowing exactly what you are getting into."

She nodded. "Whatever it is, I can handle it." she said firmly.

"The process is quite terrifying." Pitch warned. "I am going to have to give you your worst nightmares, literally. I'm going to try and scare you to death."

She laughed. "Pitch, I can handle it." she said. "Let's do this."

Pitch shrugged. "Alright." then he looked at her sleeping body. "I don't know if this will work, uh..."

"Carrie." the woman said. "My name is Carrie."

"Carrie." Pitch said, tasting her name. "It's a very beautiful name."

"Thank you."

"I don't know if this will work Carrie." he said. "You might be dead in the next few minutes."

"No biggie." she said. "I'll be sad to not see my kids, but I'll see them again in heaven, won't I?" she asked, turning to Grim.

"Ya afta life is ya choice." Grim said. "Dere's is dere's."

"OK. Well, at least it'll be over with." Carrie said, shrugging. "I don't care, really Pitch. This is actually an answer to my prayers."

Pitch frowned. "It is?"

"Yes." Carrie said, walking over to her body and looking down at the frail thing in the bed that was her. "I prayed last night that something, anything, would happen to end it. Either a miracle would happen and I would be cured or I would die and be taken to the gates of heaven. I guess I didn't expect the Boogeyman and the Grim Reaper to be that answer." she added, smiling.

Grim's hood bobbed slightly and Pitch nodded. "I see. Well, if I don't succeed at least you'll be free."

Carrie nodded, staring down at her own face. "I'll be free." she repeated, almost to herself. She stood there for about fifteen seconds, then she looked up at Grim. "So, what do I do?" she asked.

"Touch ya eyes wit'cha hands." Grim said. "Ya will be sucked back inta ya body and ya will remember all dat ya have seen."

"OK." she said. Then she looked at Pitch. "Thank you Pitch."

"Don't thank me Carrie." Pitch said, almost sadly. "I'm about to kill you."

"Yes," she said, smiling and raising her hands to her face. "That's why I'm thanking you." A flash of black, and then she was gone. The Carrie in the bed's eyes snapped open and she looked around the room, gasping something but the breathing tube stopped them from hearing what it was.

"Alright Pitch, ya turn." Grim said, then he added, "But I'm warning ya-"

"I know, I know. I screw this up, I don't live." Pitch said, walking over to her bedside. "Carrie, you have to be asleep for this to work, OK?" he said, putting a hand on her forehead. "Sleep."

Carrie's eyes drooped and Tooth only had time to see her green eyes shining with relief before they closed and her breathing slowed.

"God. Good." Pitch said, closing his eyes. "Now, let's see what Carrie is afraid of, shall we?"

The black orb took a while to form and when it did, Tooth saw an image of Carrie in the same position she was in now, laying in a hospital bed in her room in Phoenix. The only difference was, the window that looked out onto the city below in the real world was right up against her bed and as she looked out of it she saw a grassy green field with three headstones on it. One said Richard, the other said Lucy and a third Eloise. It was the headstones of her family.

Tooth sighed. The woman was afraid of living. That was a logical enough fear for someone in her position. She couldn't move and she wanted to die, but she was afraid of living past her children and watching _them_ die.

"Carrie, I can't act on a nightmare like this." Pitch said, his eyes still closed.

Carrie seemed to hear him- or, at least her subconscious did, because the nightmare shifted and became Carrie walking through a dark corridor, lit only by the glow of her own body. She kept looking over her shoulder and turning around, then moving forward with her back to the direction she was moving.

"Ah, the fear of the unknown." Pitch whispered. "That's a good one. Now let me just. . ."

The dark corridor she was walking through suddenly turned and she tripped over something, then she was falling, screaming silently and begging for it to stop.

Pitch nodded. "There we go, there we go."

Tooth looked at him. He had a small smile on his face and his lips moved, silently encouraging the nightmare. "I sure hope you know what you're doing Pitch," she said, watching Carrie's nightmare closely. She was still falling. Doors and windows passed her as she fell now. Big black doors floating in mid air and small windows, all opening and closing and haunting voiced called from each one. Tooth couldn't hear them thankfully, but she could tell they were distressing her.

"Don't you think that she's had enough and you should help her now?" Tooth asked, looking with concern from Pitch to the nightmare. He seemed to be enjoying this and- was it her, or did his voice sound different?

"Pitch," Grim said warningly.

Pitch's eyes snapped open and Tooth saw that the silver around his eyes had gotten bigger, almost engulfing the gold. "Right." he said. "Right. Thank you Grim." He turned his attention back to Carrie. The heart monitor that had been slowly beeping beside her was now beeping frantically and Tooth could see her hair starting to glow.

"Pitch, hurry!" she said, her hails digging into her palms with the suspense and anticipation. Would he be able to save her from his deadly power?

"OK," he whispered, breathing slowly in and then out. He put his hand on her forehead and closed his eyes again. "_Enough_." he whispered, his voice barely audible over the singing that was now filling the room. The singing that heralded the other two deaths. "I am your master, you obey _me!_"

Tooth bit her lip. "I don't think she's going to make it." she said. "I don't think she's gonna-"

"NO!" Pitch yelled and suddenly, all the lights and the singing and the white glow that had started creeping up her hair completely vanished. The heart monitor slowed and continued to beep, Carrie opened her eyes and looked straight at Pitch, who was just sitting there with his hand on her forehead and his eyes closed. He didn't want to open them in case he had failed. Obviously he didn't hear the beeping of the heart monitor and he only even moved when Carrie raised her hand and put it on the hand that was on her forehead.

Pitch's eyes snapped open again and now the gold seemed to be completely overtaking the silver, but there was still a sliver around the rim of his iris. "C- Carrie?" he whispered, staring down at the bedraggled woman in the bed.

She nodded, though it obviously caused her pain.

"It... it worked?"

She nodded again.

"Ha, ha! It worked! It worked!" he cried, pulling his hand away from Carrie's forehead and running over to Grim. "Grim, it worked!"

"Yes," Grim said. "Ya did it. Ya saved her."

"I saved her!" Pitch repeated, sounding just like a happy child. "I saved her! The Guardians _have_ to accept me now!"

Tooth felt the knot inside her chest tighten. They hadn't. In fact, they had beaten him to badly that she was sure he had crawled away on bloody hands and knees because his legs was broken.

Grim nodded. "Dey will. After dis, dey will."

Pitch was so excited he ran back to Carrie's bed and pressed a small kiss to her forehead. "I did it!" he cried, dancing around the room like a happy child. "I did it!"

Carrie's eyes were brimming with tears, but they were tears of joy. She smiled at Pitch and it looked like she was really happy for him.

Tooth, however, wasn't feeling happy. Of course she was glad that Pitch had saved Carrie and proved that he could be a good spirit, but she was also being gnawed away at inside by guilt. Guilt for what she knew was coming. The next month after this memory would see Pitch Black sprawled on the ground, lying broken and begging the Guardians to listen to him, but they wouldn't. North would slice his hand with his saber, Bunny would punch him and Sandy would deliver the final blow with his golden whips. And she would just hover there, watching a broken spirit pass out on the ground, only to reappear several decades later, angry and vengeful.

And she hadn't done a thing to stop it.

"He used to be a monster," she whispered as she watched Pitch smiling and dancing around the room in a mad jubilation. "He used to be something we didn't understand, and so we feared him." She felt sick with herself for how badly she and the other Guardians had treated him. A small part of her mind told her that it wasn't her fault, that he had asked for it, but she knew that that wasn't really true. "He just wants a home." she said quietly. "Somewhere to belong."

And in her heart, she knew that Pitch hadn't meant to kill that girl. He hadn't, and now he was running from the spirits that could've helped him, but wouldn't because they didn't know what he had done through.

"Well, one spirit does now." Tooth said quietly. "I know, and the instant I get out of here I'm going to find him and help him." All her anger, frustration, fear and worry had completely drained out of her and she was left the sad shell of a fairy-woman with only one thought. _Pitch needs to be helped_. Her mind repeated it over and over again. It didn't matter what he'd done, it didn't matter why he'd done it. Pitch was nothing more than a scared spirit who had been wronged over and over again and had never been listened to. He deserved a chance.

"He deserves a chance." she whispered.

Grim walked over to Carrie's bed and said in his slow, deep voice, "Do ya want me to take ya now?"

Carrie looked at Pitch, who had calmed down and was smiling more broadly that Tooth had ever seen before. He nodded at her encouragingly. "It'll be fine." he said. "It will be nice wherever you go, of that I'm sure. You choose your own afterlife, you know."

Carrie smiled at him and nodded. "Take. . . me." she rasped. Grim raised his scythe and repeated the motions of before and soon Carrie's ghost was standing before them.

"Oh Pitch, you did it!" she said, beaming at him.

"I did." he said, smiling. "Though I feel kind of cruel almost killing you just for you to die anyway." he added, grinning sheepishly.

"Pitch, don't sweat it. I would rather be dead than alive anyway." she said.

Pitch shrugged. He still seemed to be uncomfortable with the whole happy-to-be-dead thing. "Still. . ."

"So, what happens now?" Carrie asked.

"Come here." Grim ordered, motioning with a bony finger. She obediently walked over to him and stood straight in her hospital gown. Then she raised a finger and stopped the Reaper who was raising his scythe.

"Oh, hang on." she turned to face Pitch again. "Pitch, I want you to know that wherever I go, I'm always going to remember you."

Pitch inclined his head. "And I'll always remember you Carrie."

Carrie smiled and then she turned back to Grim. Grim raised his scythe.

Pitch smiled a small smile, then he seemed to remember something and he said, "Wait, Carrie!"

"Yes Pitch?" she asked, not turning around.

"Why are you so comfortable with dying?" he asked. Grim's scythe was inches from her forehead.

She laughed. Tooth thought it sounded like tolling church bells and it filled the room as Grim touched her forehead with the scythe. "Oh Pitch. My mother was a psychic_!_"

And then she was gone. The energy of Grim's scythe engulfed her, in a flash of blinding light, she was absorbed by the weapon.

Pitch just stood there, with a puzzled look on his face, and then he began to laugh.

Tooth laughed too. A psychic! That explained why she could see Pitch before Grim brought her spirit out. "Well done Pitch." she said, watching the Boogeyman laughing. His voice was soft and carried through the whole room, not like the awful cackling she'd heard him emit before in her palace. His laughter was full of mirth and joy.

"Pitch," Grim said, bowing to the other spirit. "I must take ma leave. Dere are places for me ta be."

Pitch slowly stopped laughing and then straightened up. "Yes, of course Grim. Thank you. Thank you for everything."

If Tooth was a betting girl, she would bet that beneath that hood concealed the grinning skull of death.

"No Pitch, it is I who must tank you." he said. "Ya have proved to be a brave and strong spirit."

Pitch smiled. "In return do you think you could give me back my eyebrows?" he asked hopefully. Fog was beginning to rise up from the floor. Magical fog. Fog that signaled the end of the memory-hunt and readying to transport Tooth back to her palace.

"NO!" she whined as the fog took hold of her, straining to hear the muffled voices. "I want to hear what Grim says!"

And, just as she felt her feet slipping away through the strange of memories and time she heard the Grim Reaper laugh.

"Maybe Pitch. Maybe."


End file.
